


faraway from my well-lit door

by okamiwind



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood Drinking, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Minor Character Death, Vampire Hunters, Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:20:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24979843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/okamiwind/pseuds/okamiwind
Summary: Monsters of the night creep, crawl, shift under the cover of the black night, but hunters cull the numbers. Give people a fighting chance. Yifan is a hunter. He's convinced he'll stay a hunter until something bites him in the ass. He just never expected that bite to come from someone so... curious.
Relationships: Oh Sehun/Wu Yi Fan | Kris
Comments: 30
Kudos: 100
Collections: November Rain Fest Round 2





	faraway from my well-lit door

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt NR2078.

Yifan is constantly looking over his shoulder, but that particular evening, he is looking backwards for a much different reason. 

Yifan is a hunter by trade. He’s prepared for vampires. He’s prepared for just about anything, of course, but especially for vampires. They’re his forte, after all. 

However, the vampire that hunts him that eve, drenched in pale white moonlight and surely armed with an unquenchable thirst for the blood that streaks through Yifan’s body… this vampire is naught more than a newborn. 

Yifan can feel him moving through the trees at either side of the road, but his movements are heavy and loud, not as refined or smart as Yifan knows they can be. Vampires are quick, intelligent, and dangerous. This one… this one is either unskilled, freshly born, or _both_. 

He tries to shake the feeling, the overwhelming and unavoidable feeling that he is being _watched_. He wants to leave it where it lies, but he is unable to. He walks along the dirt road, rocks crunching under his boot heels, dust clouding around his ankles. He can feel eyes on the back of his neck, and he closes his own eyes. _Mind over matter_ , he tells himself. 

It is a long journey home from the tavern, and once he is well and truly in the dark, he can’t ignore it any longer. He turns, pulls out his revolver in a lightning fast motion. The Colt was crafted of pure silver, bullets just the same, and it has lovely spiraled etchings on the handle. It is his dearest possession, and it is probably his closest friend. 

“You have a minute, and not a minute more. Go back whence you came,” Yifan threatens, moving the barrel of his Colt around in a circle. “Ask your Sire, young one.” He spins back towards his cabin, begins to take his leave as he holsters his gun once more. “I am the hunter called Yifan, and I am sure he knows my name, same as you _should_ know it by now.” 

Not a second later, the vampire drops in front of him, teeth long and poking at his bottom lip. 

A bolt of fear strikes through Yifan head to toe, but he stands his ground. This little thing, tall and pale and weak, he poses no threat, Yifan is sure. He is in the business of knowing and disposing of threats. 

“I’m sorry,” the little vampire says, but he is not _so_ little, just a bit shorter than Yifan stands at his fullest height. “I’m sorry, I just—” 

“Just _what_ ,” Yifan asks, and he stares into the little vampire’s red eyes, the last of his humanity standing there like water in a stopped drain. “What, young one?” 

“I’m quite thirsty,” the vampire says, and he rubs at his throat as if he’s in pain. “And I-I don’t know who my Sire is.” 

Yifan rolls his eyes. He’s got no desire to keep a stray. 

He breaks his own first rule, turning his back on the vampire as he passes him by, walking toward home. “Hunt in the woods, if you must. Spill their blood, you leech, but stay away from the people in the town.” He looks back at the vampire over his shoulder. “If even one of them dies, and I find that you are to blame—” 

“I don’t… I don’t want to kill anyone.” 

Yifan stops in his tracks at the sound of the little vampire’s voice, forlorn. He faces front in confusion before looking back over his shoulder again, seeing the kid standing in the middle of the road, a hand still at his neck. For the first time, Yifan tries to put himself in a monster’s shoes. What might it feel like? A fire? An unyielding fire? Like the darkest side of passion? 

“Prove it,” Yifan says suddenly, before he can stop himself. 

“What?” 

He looks at the boy, little more than a boy. Looks at him fully now. He is tall and his shoulders are broad, but he is skinny. In need of a good meal, something to stick to his bones. 

“Prove to me that you don’t want to kill anything,” Yifan says. 

“How?” 

“Stay alive,” Yifan says, and he turns to either side of the road, gesturing to the oak trees, the maples. “Keep to these woods, and drink from the deer you’ll find there. If you can make it a week without leaving these forests, then I will… I will help you, young one.” 

Immediately, the little vampire with the long teeth and the red eyes drops to his knees, hands clasped together over his bowed head as if he’s praying. 

“T-Thank you,” the vampire says. “Thank you, I promise, I’ll—”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Yifan laughs grimly. “If I hear that you’ve killed someone in town, it will be the death of you, do you understand?” 

“I don’t think there’s a way to kill me,” the vampire says, and Yifan opens his mouth to argue, but the vampire is too quick. “I’ve already tried.” 

A sick, lonely feeling wells in Yifan’s stomach. How did this little thing become a vampire? Who bit him, who kept him alive long enough to complete the transformation? He feels guilty. Feels bad for this lost soul. 

He blinks the empathy away, steels himself. 

“Keep to the wood,” Yifan points. “Do we have a deal?” 

“Yes,” the vampire says. “Yes, it’s a deal.” 

Yifan nods. “Good.” He faces the north once more, walks off. “Next Sunday, then. I expect to see you, young one. Do not disappoint.” 

“I-I won’t,” the young vampire says, and Yifan finds himself smiling to himself as he walks back to his cabin. 

He lights the fire, warms himself by it, and thinks of the possibilities. What would he prefer? He has always told himself that it was a righteous cause, his life’s work. Killing the little vampire… that would not feel righteous. That would not be right. 

He lays his gun on the mantle, and he drinks a glass of whisky to warm him through before he puts himself to bed. He thinks of the young one, the vampire without a Sire, and he wonders what his name might be. 

Wonders if he’ll ever hear it.  
  


†

Yifan waits for word of the young vampire.

Each morning as he passes the forest on his way to town, he studies the trees, tries to look for movement, any movement at all. He sees none, eyes trained to detect even the smallest motion. He doesn't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing. He hates that he thinks about it so often. 

Halfway through the week, he goes to the tavern, mug full of beer, and he sits on his own. Yifan keeps his eyes on the rest of the patrons, occasionally looking down to the glassy surface of his beer. The foam is long gone, and he's got a buzz sitting warmly in his chest. He will sleep well that evening. 

"Another?" the barkeep asks. 

"One more," Yifan says gruffly.

The barkeep pulls the tab, gives him a fresh mug. He slides it over as Yifan opens his throat, lets the dredges slip down. He slides his empty in exchange for the full, and he nods at the barkeep. 

"Good work lately?" he asks. 

"Oh, it's been fine," Yifan says. "And you?" 

"Fine," the barkeep smiles. "I'm more interested in your line, of course." 

Yifan smirks down at his beverage, takes another long pull before letting it _thunk_ onto the wood of the bar. "Not much interest these days." He traces his fingertips along the glass. "No problems, as of late." He raises his gaze just a touch. "Have you... heard anything lately?" 

The bartender works on drying a glass with a towel, quirking a brow at Yifan. 

"Doubt I'd be the first to know," he says. 

"No rumblings of... say, a young vampire?" Yifan asks. 

The bartender laughs. "Oh, I know your tricks, hunter. You'll get no clues from me if there's a murderer afoot." He sets the glass back where it belongs. "That's a quick way six feet under." 

"No murderer," Yifan promises. "But have you heard tell of a freshly turned boy? Looks no older than twenty, I'd say. A pretty one." 

"Funny you mention," the barkeep says. "There was a boy. Nearly died of consumption. All the girls in town thought him the most handsome thing they'd ever seen." 

_They'd be even more right now_ , Yifan thinks, remembering the clear, pale skin, the gentle sparkle in his eyes. He was supremely handsome, even weak with thirst. 

"What happened to him?" Yifan asks. "The boy?" 

"Went to the sanatorium, of course," the barkeep says. "Heard they were trying to rehabilitate him with rest. And then one day—" 

"What?" 

"He up and vanished," the barkeep says. "Could be the same kid, I reckon. No one just leaves without another word." 

"The kid said he didn't know his Sire," Yifan says, taking a sip of his beer. 

"So we've abandoned the part where we pretend that this is all hypothetical?" the barkeep smirks. "Where's the kid now?" 

"It's a hypothetical," Yifan assures him. 

"You best kill that kid, hunter," the barkeep says. "I don't hold no ill will towards that kind, you know that about me, but if the rest of these folks hear you're letting the leeches live, well, I don't expect you'll have an occupation in town for much longer." 

"No," Yifan says, "I expect not."  
  


†

Yifan walks home that evening, but _walk_ is a generous word. He drank a little too much, stayed just a little too long. The cabin is so far, but he will make it. He will make it, he'll deal with the young one, and all will be well once more.

With that thought, there is a snapping of a branch at his side, and when Yifan turns, suddenly, the boy is before him, fangs dropped, smiling. 

"Good evening," the boy says. "It's been three days time." 

"Has it now?" Yifan says. "Three days?" 

"Nearly four," the boy says, staring up at the sky before looking back to Yifan. "The sun will rise soon, Yifan." 

Strangely, the sound of his name slipping from out of the young vampire's mouth makes Yifan shudder. He plods off, letting the vampire chase after him. 

"Wait, wait," the vampire says. "I never told you my name." 

"I don't need your name," Yifan says. "If I know your name, i—" 

"It makes it harder to kill me, doesn't it?" Yifan turns sharply, and the boy smiles, fangs poking into his bottom lip. "I'm Sehun. It's good to finally meet you, officially." 

"Leave me be, leech," Yifan curses. "I'll see you in three days time." 

"You will," Sehun promises. "I've been drinking from the deer, just as you told me to." 

Yifan huffs a breath, surprised. "Best not lie to me, boy." 

"No lies, sir," Sehun says, and the title _sir_ , it's not one Yifan's heard in a while. People usually call him _hunter_ , rarely even hears his own name anymore. "I'll see you on the morrow. I know you pass through this way each morning, so—" 

"Don't watch me," Yifan says, and he points back to the woods. "Go. Away with you." 

"Okay," Sehun says, and then suddenly, Yifan is alone once more. 

The journey back is lonely without the boy, the young vampire named Sehun.  
  


†

On Sunday morning, Yifan goes to the meeting place in the center of town, and he asks around. There has been no sight of the boy. He's not stepped out of the woods once, not since Yifan told him to stay.

What kind of loyal dog is he? Doesn't he know that Yifan could just as easily kill him? Dispose of him? End his endless life? 

He spends the day trying to figure out what to do with the poor thing, and ultimately, he comes up with little. 

He walks to the forest that evening, no jobs until the day after. He trudges through the detritus and the ground cover, nudging the branches of trees out of his way with the barrel of his revolver. When he hears Sehun singing softly to himself, he almost turns around. He shouldn't be here. He shouldn't be helping this… this _vampire_. Still, he approaches, finds him bathing at the river. Yifan watches him before moving ever closer. 

He must catch the scent of Yifan's blood, because he looks up, sniffing the air. 

Yifan smiles. He’s gotten better with the hunt. 

"Yifan?" Sehun calls, and then quick like a rabbit, he turns, locking onto Yifan. " _Yifan_." 

He bounds out of the water, the droplets falling down his body. He smiles brightly, brighter than the sun as he runs over, throwing on his pants almost like an afterthought. 

“Today is the day,” Sehun says excitedly. “One week.” 

“Yes,” Yifan says, unable to keep the impressed tone from his voice, “one week.” 

He simply hadn’t thought it possible, not for a vampire, especially one so new. He knows the animal blood won’t quench them forever. It doesn’t taste as good. Tastes _off_. 

_You wouldn’t know Sehun had a problem with it, looking at him_ , Yifan thinks. Though he is pale, his skin is dewy and rosey like he’s just feasted, like the new blood is coursing through him. Yifan’s eyes drip over Sehun’s chest like water. He looks stronger already. _How long had he gone without eating?_

“I-If you’ve changed your mind,” the little vampire says, moving his hands behind his back like he’s nervous, “then I would not begrudge you, hunter. I know…”

“What do you know?” Yifan asks. 

“I know it must make your work much more difficult,” Sehun tells him, eyes wide and bright and unhurt. “So if you tell me to go, to stay away from this place… I will go. I will find someplace.” 

Another heartbreak from this loathsome wretch. Yifan is unable to tell him to go, unable to tell him to stay. He is caught between duty and honor. Just like always. 

“I told you I would help,” Yifan says. “We made a deal, and you’ve honored your side of it. A man is only as good as his word, isn’t he?” 

“No.” 

“No?” 

“Honor is about much more than words and actions,” the little vampire says, as if he’s been thinking about _honor_ for the long week spent under the stars. “Honor is sometimes about intention, right?” 

“You don’t know about honor,” Yifan says. 

“No, certainly not,” Sehun says with a charming smile. 

“Dry off, else I’ll have nothing to do with you.” 

“Are you really helping me?” Sehun asks, and he goes to fetch his shirt from where it hangs along the tree branch. “W—What is there to do with me?” 

Truthfully, Yifan doesn’t know, but he must find out… and quickly.  
  


†

Against all his better judgement, he brings the little vampire home with him that evening.

His eyes go wide when he steps into Yifan’s cabin, and Yifan tries to keep his face stern and stoic as the boy’s nose starts to move through the air, scanning the scents. 

“Mm. It smells like…” 

“Like venison roast,” Yifan says, and the floorboards creak as he kicks off his boots, walks through the dark interior. “I had it the night before. You’ve a good nose.” 

“N-No,” Sehun says shyly, bringing a hand to the back of his neck. 

“Yes,” Yifan says, and he goes to the hearth, beginning to load it full of kindling. “I don’t pay compliments to those who don’t deserve them. Especially not—”

“Monsters.” Yifan looks at him, and he is looking towards the floor. “I know.” 

His heart does something curious in his chest, so he looks away from the boy, striking the match and throwing it into the fireplace. It takes a moment for the fire to catch enough air, but once it breathes, it eats ravenously. Soon, the cabin is filled with warm light, and Yifan is forced to turn back to the vampire. 

“You can take the bed,” Yifan offers quietly. 

“I couldn’t.” 

“You are a guest,” Yifan says, but it comes out too hard, rougher than he meant it. “So take the bed.” 

Sehun moves quickly, ridding himself of his boots before falling into Yifan’s bed. Yifan stares at him, the long line of his body, feeling as though he must look away before he says something ridiculous. 

“How long have you been a hunter?” Sehun asks, hands behind his head as Yifan throws open the back door, heading to his small root cellar. “You must be weary of it now.” 

“What makes you say that?” Yifan calls back. He grabs a new bottle of whiskey, closing the door to the cellar behind him and then the back door after he’s back in the cabin. 

He gets a glass from the cabinet, and he pours himself a heavy glass. 

“You are wasting your time with the likes of me,” Sehun says softly. “Sheltering me. Keeping me from harm.” Yifan looks at him, sips from his amber cup. “After all, I am that which you are bound to destroy.” 

“And yet,” Yifan says, the liquor burning down his throat. 

_Is this what it feels like? Is this what it feels like to thirst?_

“And yet,” Sehun says happily. 

Yifan studies the roaring fire until his eyes ache, the tongues of the flames curling and dancing across the brick. Sehun is quiet, and Yifan is thankful. He doesn’t want to think any longer on the situation that he’s gotten himself into. 

The little vampire has nothing to his name, no way to make it in the world without someone to guide him. 

“You feasted tonight, didn’t you?” Yifan asks. 

“I did.” 

“How many deer?” 

“J-Just one,” Sehun says. 

“How long until you must feast again?” 

“Tomorrow evening,” Sehun says. “A-And you?” 

Yifan turns. “What?” 

“Did you eat this evening?” Sehun asks. 

Yifan drains what little is left of his alcohol before pouring himself another glass. He drains that too, letting it spit fire down his throat. 

“Don’t be smart,” he says, and they let the fire warm them. Yifan lays himself across the floor in front of the fire and lets the warmth bleed through him. “I rise with the sun.” 

“I’d expect no less, hunter,” Sehun says, and when Yifan looks over, his eyes are still open. “I don’t really… need sleep anymore.” 

Yifan turns his back to the vampire, closing his eyes before he can rethink this situation yet again. 

“Pretend,” Yifan advises, and he lets the exhaustion and the liquor pull him down, down, down.  
  


†

When the morning sun rises, he smells… food.

Sleepily, Yifan sits up, and he looks around to locate the source of the scent. 

Sehun is standing at Yifan’s stove-top. He has one of the cast irons, and he is sprinkling salt over whatever is crackling away in the pan. 

Quickly, lightning fast, he turns, smiling at Yifan. 

“Morning,” Sehun says, and he takes the cast iron with bare hands, whipping it over to show Yifan the perfectly fried eggs. He jiggles the pan, and the edges of the eggs are perfectly golden brown and bubbling. “Do you like eggs?” 

“I like eggs fine,” Yifan says, and he combs his hand through his hair. “I didn’t recall telling you that you could use my stove… or cook my food, for that matter.” Sehun frowns smally, and he turns back to the stove, setting the pan down onto the burner. “Isn’t that pan hot?” 

Sehun shrugs. “I don’t feel it.” 

“You don’t?” 

Sehun peeks back over his shoulder. “I thought you were a hunter. I thought you knew about vampires.” 

_Apparently not_ , Yifan thinks, and he stands sharply, kicking his bedclothes into a pile towards the bed. 

“There’s much I still don’t know,” Yifan says plainly, and he gives a sharp stretch. “What are you cooking for?” 

“F-For you, of course,” Sehun says, and he turns, hands behind his back shyly. “I meant to say thank you.” 

“No need,” Yifan says. “It’s the least I could do considering—” 

He cuts himself off, grabs a plate from his cabinet. 

“Considering what?” Sehun asks. 

“Considering you did something I didn’t think one of your kind could do,” Yifan says. He nods towards the eggs. “Those are for me, right?” 

Sehun nods eagerly, and his fangs poke at his bottom lip as he smiles. He holds the cast iron by the ripping hot handle and the eggs slide off onto the plate. 

“I fried you some bacon too,” Sehun says. “And there’s toast in the oven as well. Just keeping it warm for you.”

Yifan nods, and he tries his best to avoid the swinging, to and fro feeling of affection in his heart. The kid isn’t so bad, and it’s been a while since he’s had… anyone. 

He sits at the small table, and Sehun sits opposite him as he eats. It isn’t bad, not in the least, and Yifan can’t remember the last time someone cooked for him. Someone that wasn’t being _paid_ , that is. 

“Do you have a job today?” Sehun asks. 

“I do.” 

“Where do you have to go?” Sehun asks. “Is it dangerous?” 

“Out to Calimth,” Yifan says. “And yes.” 

“What kind of monster?” Sehun asks. “Something fearsome and ferocious?” 

“A vampire,” Yifan answers. 

Sehun lowers his head. “I’m sorry.” 

Yifan shrugs, and he speaks with a full mouth. “It’s not your fault you were turned.” 

Sehun’s head cocks to the side. “How do you know?” He squints at Yifan. “Did you ask around town about me?” 

“Course I did,” Yifan says, and he slices through the yolk, letting it bleed across the plate. “Wouldn’t be much of a hunter if I didn’t.” 

“So then you know,” Sehun says. “You know who did this to me.” 

“Nope.” 

“No?” 

“Nope,” Yifan says, and he sweeps his toast through the yolk. “Not my job to solve mysteries, especially not ones that don’t come with a purse.” 

Sehun looks down to his hands, and Yifan finishes his plate in record time. He feels a funny streak of guilt across his belly, but he doesn’t know why. It’s not like _he_ bit the kid, and he taught him not to kill anything. He’s giving him a place to stay. 

“I had a life,” Sehun whispers. “It wasn’t a very good one, but it was one I could call mine. My parents, my friends… I can never go back to them. I can never return to the life I once lived.” He shuts his eyes, and Yifan looks away. “I can never go back.” 

“No,” Yifan says. “You can’t.” 

A quiet sniff makes Yifan look back, and sure enough, the little vampire is… crying. But the tears are milky white and iridescent, fascinating and faceted. Glimmering in the morning light. Yifan watches in awe for a moment. 

“I’m sorry,” Sehun says, and he wipes the tears away from his face. “I just—”

“I should go,” Yifan says quickly, and he stands up from the table. “It’s a long way to Calimth.” 

“R-Right,” Sehun says, and he looks up at Yifan with a watery smile. “Two days time.” 

“All goes well, I should be back within the week.” 

He packs up his things, quickly grabs his boots. He laces them up, knots them hard. He threads his holster on, shoving his revolver into it. 

“Okay,” Sehun says. “What should I do while you’re gone?” 

“Stay inside unless it’s to hunt,” Yifan says. “If anyone comes looking for me, hide. Don’t speak to anyone. Don’t go anywhere. Don’t do anything.” 

Sehun looks down to his hands again. “All right.” 

“I’m serious,” Yifan says, and he grabs his coat on his way out. “If I catch word of a young vampire on the loose, I’ll pack right up, be here in no time, and I’ll—” 

“Kill me,” Sehun says. “Yes, I understand, hunter.” 

Yifan hesitates at the door, torn. In the end, he leaves Sehun without another word, but in his heart, he notes that he much preferred when Sehun called him _Yifan_ over _hunter_. 

Truth be told, whenever Sehun is around, he doesn’t feel much like a hunter.  
  


†

The trip to Calimth is easy enough with the steam train. Before, he used to go by horse, and that took a week. Now, it’s much easier. Besides, Yifan travels well, used to it by now. Used to being on his own.

Years ago, Calimth was a great seat of power, a sprawling town that rumbled with life. It bustled and brawled as any lovely city might. Walking through the city gates, it is difficult to remark on anything besides the fact that Calimth is nothing but a ghost town now. It was wiped away by an invasion of the leeches, but once everyone had been turned, well… no one left to feed upon. They’d packed up and left. 

The once glorious town is dusty and old, the stately mansions left to fall to ash over time. Yifan keeps to the streets, eyes scanning shuttered windows of various buildings, an inn, the old gasworks, a tobacco house, a cloth shop. The town was built upon its finery, and it crashed   
down with it. 

He is in Calimth because a vampire took residence in the Mayor’s house, long left empty. He stole away there in the middle of the night after drinking from one of the poor boy’s from the town next to Yifan’s, leaving him for dead in the street. Yifan can’t look the other way. Certainly not when he lives in luxury, no matter how dilapidated. 

His boot heels clack against the cobblestones, and surely, the vampire can hear him. Surely, he knows that Yifan is here. But he doesn’t leave. No. He wants Yifan to come to him on his terms. 

He goes that morning, as soon as he arrives, doesn’t stop anywhere for anything. He knows that the vampire knows he is coming. He could just as easily be led into an ambush. Yifan doesn’t care. There’s something about the way the vampire killed the boy, careless and cruel, that makes Yifan think that this won’t be so difficult. 

A monster only slays so violently when they are looking for retribution. And retribution is one thing Yifan can grant. 

He journeys to the mansion on the hill, trekking through the forgotten city streets. It takes the better part of the day to get all the way to the top of the hill, weaving through the trails and tracks. He grabs his gun from his holster when he approaches the grounds. What was once almost certainly manicured and well-kept has gone fallow and marshy, left to return to its natural state. Yifan’s boots get wet with mud as he climbs the stone steps, keeping himself as quiet as possible. Now, though, so close… he will know that Yifan is here. He can smell him on the air. 

He kicks open the door with a well-placed heel to the door jamb, and he aims his revolver left then right as he creeps into the house. It is nothing but a shell now, the furniture moth-eaten and patched, the hearth long cold. 

“Up here,” the vampire calls, and Yifan immediately turns, looks up the grand staircase to see the vampire, a handsome if downtrodden man with ashen skin and blood red eyes. He aims his gun at him. The monster must feel guilty, Yifan thinks. He must hate himself. He’s never seen a vampire look so terrible. “Come upstairs. The view from the balcony is stunning.” 

“Pardon my language, but I don’t really give a shit about the view.” 

The vampire shrugs. “Suit yourself.” He turns his back, walks back whence he came. His voice carries magnificently in the stately vaulted ceilings. “If you’ve come looking for a fight, you won’t find one here with me, hunter.” 

Yifan takes no more time, climbing the stairs two, three at a time. He follows the vampire into the master bedroom, and the glass doors that lead to the balcony are thrown open. There is one clean hole shattered through the left door, and Yifan stares through it for a moment. The vampire braces his hands against the wrought-iron railing, and he looks back at Yifan over his shoulder. 

“Come, come,” the vampire says. “You can see for a mile, I swear it.” 

“Why kill him?” Yifan asks. “A boy of twelve.” 

The vampire sighs. “You’re no fun.” 

“You’re a monstrous creature,” Yifan says, “with no remorse or heart left in you.” 

“No, you’re right,” the vampire says. “It was gone before you were born, plucked from me a hundred years ago when I was turned.” 

He lets go of the railing very simply, and for a moment, Yifan thinks he’s about to leap over the balcony and escape. Instead, the vampire turns, giving Yifan a charming smile as he brushes past him. 

“Care for a drink?” the vampire asks, and he goes to a forgotten barcart. He takes the stopper off a decanter filled with a deep, ruby liquid. “Though I suppose it’s not to your taste… alas, it’s all I’ve got, and I would hate to be a terrible host.” 

Yifan has nearly lost control of the encounter, so he steps forward, the vampire smiling as he presses the barrel of the gun into his chest. 

“Why the boy?” 

“I guess there’s no time for a drink,” the vampire says, stoppering the decanter of blood once more. 

“ _Why the boy?_ ”

The vampire shrugs. “There is no difference between him and anyone else, is there?” 

“Did you ever have a family?” Yifan asks. “Did you ever know _love_?” 

“Questions from the likes of you?” the vampire laughs. “And I’d heard such pleasant things.” 

“I do not care to hear what you’ve heard,” Yifan says, and he pulls back, circling the barrel of the gun. “I want answers.” 

“Oh, you’ll get none, _hunter_ ,” the vampire smiles, mouth dripping with venom. “Why him? No, you mean _why anyone_? You are disgusted, mortified by what humanity stripped from me, but I was _made_ this way. And your reputation precedes you.” His smile fades. “I have heard of your cruelty. I have heard of your… _passion_.”

“It’s no passion,” Yifan clarifies, “this is work, and though I’ve never considered it the noblest work—” 

“You are a liar,” the vampire says. “And not even a fair one.” 

“I am no liar.” 

“You are,” the vampire accuses, “not only to me, but to yourself.” He gestures between the two of them. “When I turned, I had a penchant for violence. For gore. What’s your excuse, hunter? When did you _turn_? When did you start to enjoy it?” 

Yifan holsters his gun, and within the blink of an eye, he flips the vampire onto the ground, caging him in, the muzzle of the gun pressed back into his chest, harder, _harder_. 

“Oh, you’re quite quick, aren’t you?” the vampire says. “Fine, I know when I’ve been bested. End it, hunter. End it all.” 

The vampire shuts his eyes, and suddenly, Sehun’s face appears in Yifan’s mind’s eye. He has no idea where the picture came from, but it is unshakable, unfathomably clear. It makes Yifan gasp, and the vampire’s eyes open, his nostrils flaring. 

“T-Tell me this, and I might spare you,” Yifan says hurriedly, trying to control the swelling of emotion in his chest. “Tell me, do you know… do you know anything about a break-in at the sanatorium?” 

“The sanatorium?” 

“Down by Eastpass,” Yifan clarifies. “Seven days out by horse, two by train.” 

“Hm,” the vampire says, “Eastpass, you say…” 

“A sanatorium,” Yifan repeats. 

The vampire leans back in thought, and Yifan’s heart leaps. Perhaps he will be able to figure out what happened to Sehun. Perhaps he might have an answer when he heads home. 

Then as he rears back, the vampire spits into Yifan’s face. The poison burns, but Yifan bites his lip as he presses the barrel deeper into the vampire’s chest. 

“Why would I tell you _anything_ , hunter?” the vampire seethes. “You would rather see me split apart by stakes in the summer sun.” He bares his neck further, grinning at Yifan. “Go on, Wu Yifan, great slayer of mythics and monsters that you are… kill me like a dog in the street.” 

Yifan almost holds back, caught for a moment by the look in his eyes. There is still a hint of humanity in him, though it is well and truly lost by the time Yifan pulls the trigger. There is little left of the vampire when Yifan opens his eyes, nothing but white ash across the floorboards. Yifan kneels, and he tries to catch his breath. He’s got to get back to Sehun. He’s got to get his head on straight.  
  


†

The train home is long, much longer than the one leading away from home. He gets some looks at the new mottled red burn scar across his cheek. He’ll have to get used to that. New normal.

It’s strange, after everything, coming back to someone. Yifan became accustomed to the quiet, to the dark. He hesitates at the closed door of the cabin, wondering if he should knock before entering. He shakes his head, feeling supremely foolish for even entertaining the idea. 

He pushes open the door, and he sets down his bag as Sehun blurs with movement. He gets quicker by the day, or maybe not _quicker_ but certainly… lighter on his feet. Smarter about his movements. 

“You’re back!” Sehun cheers, and he hides something behind his back neatly. “You’re early! B—What happened to your face?” 

“That’s no greeting.” 

Sehun wheels back around, setting something on the table, and he is fast as he moves to look Yifan over. 

“W-What happened to you?” Sehun wonders. He reaches up slightly, an aborted movement like he meant to… _touch_ Yifan. 

“Got spit on,” Yifan says stiffly. “Some of your kind are… mean.” 

“My spit is venomous?” Sehun wonders. 

“I suppose there’s a lot you don’t know about yourself,” Yifan says. “You can control it, in truth, but… I can’t teach you that. Sire’d have to do it. It can be venomous, or it can be… healing.” 

“Are you all right?” Yifan looks at him. “Should I try and—” 

“Spit on me?” Yifan smiles. “I think I’ll keep the scar I got.” 

Yifan looks around. It is certainly cleaner than he left it, and it smells… sweet. 

“You do all right here?” 

“I did just fine,” Sehun says. “Though I expected you back in a day or two.” 

“It was a quick job,” Yifan says, and he takes his gun from the holster, walking over to set it on the mantle. “Quicker than I’d imagined.” 

“Oh.” He looks down to knit hands, twisting them nervously. “W-Well, I have a surprise for you.” 

Yifan cocks an eyebrow as he unbuckles his holster. “Did you kill something?” 

“W—Only when I needed to drink, of course. Deer only!” Sehun says. “No, I… I made you something.” 

Yifan frowns. “What did you do?” 

Sehun goes back to the table, and he shows Yifan… what appears to be a large chocolate cake. 

“You had a store of chocolate in the root cellar that was just about to bloom,” Sehun says. “I didn’t want it to go to waste, so I—” 

“Made me a cake,” Yifan says, staring down at the frosted top. “You made me a cake?” 

He looks up at Sehun, and Sehun is staring at him expectantly, anticipating… _something_. 

“Do you like it?” Sehun asks. 

“I don’t usually eat sweets,” Yifan tells him, but his face falls so far. Yifan quickly amends, “b-but I suppose once in a while wouldn’t hurt.” 

Immediately, his expression brightens like the sun breaking through clouds. 

“Really?” Sehun asks. “I did my very best, I promise. When I was young, I used to go to the bakeshop with my mother, and every time, I would ask for this chocolate cake.” 

“And you learned to make it?” Yifan asks, vaguely entertained. 

“Of course,” Sehun says. “I started working there when I was able.” He looks down to his feet. “I wasn’t able to work there long, not with everything slowing down and then… you know, what happened to me.” 

Sehun seems the type to linger in emotions for far too long, and Yifan isn’t the kind for that. He grabs a plate, a fork, and his chef’s knife, and Sehun wheels around to follow him. 

“So then I suppose this is the best chocolate cake in town?” Yifan comments, and he whacks himself an inelegant slice of the confection. 

He tips it easily onto the plate, and his mouth waters at the sight. It has been a long time since he had anything so… decadent. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” Sehun says shyly, but he sits down at the table opposite Yifan. He hunches his shoulders a little before sitting up straight. “Tell me what you think of it, hunter.” 

Yifan picks off a corner, frosted with what smells like chocolate buttercream. He lifts it to his mouth, letting the moist cake settle on his tongue. It is divine, and Yifan takes the moment to enjoy it before swallowing thickly. 

“A fine job,” Yifan praises, and Sehun’s face falls further than before. “What? I said it’s fine.” 

“Fine isn’t… well, it isn’t _lovely_ , is it?” 

“Lovely,” Yifan scoffs. “Do I look the type to call anything _lovely_?” 

Sehun tilts his head to the side, looking Yifan over. “I don’t know. Perhaps.” 

“Really?” Yifan asks, raising his brow. 

“Maybe a girl,” Sehun says with a clever smile. “Maybe some little tart.” 

“Had many tarts?” 

“Only cherry tarts,” Sehun smiles. 

Yifan takes another bite of his cake, barely chewing it, just letting it dissolve into sugar in his mouth until it slips down his throat pleasantly. 

“I heard about you,” Yifan says, and he keeps his eyes on his cake as he takes another big bite. He swallows before he speaks. “Heard all the girls loved you.” 

“W-Who said that?” Sehun asks. “Whoever did you ask about me?” 

“Never mind that.” Yifan’s eyes flick up, and he sees Sehun hiding a smile. “Did you have a sweetheart?” 

“Never,” Sehun says. 

“Why not?” 

“Didn’t care for any of the silly girls,” Sehun smiles, and he nods down at Yifan’s plate. “Cleaned it up, even though it’s only _fine_.” 

“Fine is a high compliment, coming from me,” Yifan says. “You’ll learn that.” 

“All right, then, hunter,” Sehun says. “All right.”  
  


†

The following morning, Sehun wakes Yifan the same way as before, eggs and bacon and toast. Yifan squints at him with tired eyes as he makes the coffee.

“You do this every day?” Yifan asks. 

“Not on the days you were gone, no,” Sehun says. “Couldn’t be making too many fires while you were gone. People would get suspicious.” 

He’s smarter than Yifan gives him credit for. Young, that’s for damn sure, but not dumb. 

“Vampires don’t really eat, do they?” Sehun asks, and he sets the plate down where Yifan normally sits. 

Yifan sits, grabs his fork, tucks in. “Nope.” 

“Food doesn’t smell or taste like anything to me anymore,” Sehun says. “Nearly dumped a cup of salt into the cake instead of sugar.” 

Yifan snorts, and Sehun laughs sadly. 

“Sorry,” Yifan says. 

“No, no, it’s… it’s fine.” 

“You like to eat?” Yifan asks. “Before?” 

Yifan looks Sehun over. Skinny little thing. 

“I did,” Sehun nods. “My favorite food was bread. Bread and butter.” 

“Simple,” Yifan says, crunching through his toast at exactly the wrong moment. 

“Yeah,” Sehun sighs. “Simplest things are best.” 

“Is that true?” 

“In my opinion, yes.”

“And everyone’s got an opinion,” Yifan says. 

“Yes,” Sehun nods. “What’s your favorite food?” 

“Oh, I suppose it would be… well, I’ve always been partial to mashed potatoes,” Yifan says. 

“ _Mashed potatoes?_ ” 

“Is that so funny?” Yifan asks. 

“Not funny, just… I suppose I had assumed you’d say something like roast beef,” Sehun says. “Or bacon.” 

“I like both those things,” Yifan says. 

“But you like mashed potatoes best?” Sehun smiles. 

“I suppose, yes.” 

Sehun nods to himself. “I will commit this to memory.” 

“Why?” 

“No reason,” Sehun says. 

“ _Why?_ ” 

“Well, I might like to make your favorite food for you sometime,” Sehun smiles. “Is that a crime?” 

Yifan swallows thickly, unsure why his body seems to tense at the suggestion. Favorite food… that is a language of love all its own, isn’t it? He puts the thought out of his mind, embarrassed to have had it in the first place. 

“Are you looking for things to do?” 

Sehun shrugs, that lazy sort that speaks of boredom. Yifan can understand. With eternity staring back at you, it might get… intimidating. Scary. 

Yifan takes him out back later that same day. 

“If you’re going to be staying, you’ll be pulling your weight,” Yifan says. “So from now on, you’ll have chores.” 

Sehun’s eyes light up at the possibility. Yifan doesn’t understand it, not at all. 

“What do you want me to do, hunter?” Sehun asks. “What kind of chores will they be?” 

“Keeping the house tidy,” Yifan says. “Like—”

“Like I did while you were gone?” 

“Precisely,” Yifan says. 

“Not much of a duster, are you?” Sehun smiles, nodding. “I understand, woman’s work and all that.” 

“I never said that.” 

“Certainly not,” Sehun says with a wink. “After all, you gave it to me.” 

Yifan’s eyes look over him for a minute. He’s not totally _unlike_ a woman. Delicate and fair features. A slender body. His shoulders are too broad, his waist too narrow… no, he is distinctly masculine, though he is exceedingly pretty. 

He turns, unable to justify his staring any longer. 

“I wanted… I wanted to start a garden,” Yifan says, and he gestures to the broad plot of land behind the cabin. “Berries and nuts closest to the forest line.” He points down to a small area near the root cellar. “Vegetables and fruits nearer to the house.” 

“What kind of vegetables?” Sehun wonders. 

“Lettuce, peas, radishes,” Yifan says. “I talked… to a farmer in town. He gave some suggestions.” 

“I’ve got to tell you,” Sehun says, and he kicks the tip of his shoe along the dirt, “I’ve never done much growing before.” 

“No green thumb?” 

“I think no thumb at all,” Sehun says with an endearing smile, letting it fade away as he looks down to his hands. “D-Do you have much experience?” 

It feels very much like a loaded question, and he feels a little flare of heat just underneath his skin. 

“A bit,” Yifan says. 

“You must take the lead,” Sehun begs. 

“We’ll learn as one,” Yifan says, and he tries to quiet the strange emotion that builds from his stomach. 

He helps Sehun till the land, and for the better part of the morning, they work together. It’s been quite a while since he’s had his hands in the dirt, sticking seeds into the earth. By the time the sun sits high above them, sweat beads along the back of his neck, along his forehead. He wipes it away with the back of his arm before pulling his shirt off, tossing it aside. 

He fetches a pail of water from the pump in the kitchen, and when he returns, Sehun is staring at him blankly. 

“What?” Yifan asks. 

“Nothing,” Sehun says, and he walks over, taking the pail of water from Yifan’s hands. 

He goes to the newly sown gardens, and he gingerly waters the fresh soil. There is something wholesome about it, watching Sehun learn something new. 

The whole day is rather quaint, like something out of a storybook that his mother read to him when he was younger. He sits at the table later as Sehun cooks a supper that only Yifan will eat. It seems unfair, but Sehun hums to himself as he works, and it almost seems like… he enjoys himself. Yifan lets himself enjoy it too. 

It is a delicious meal, a roast turkey breast with greens and toasted bread, and Yifan eats hungrily as Sehun sits across from him. Perhaps he’s uncomfortable, Yifan thinks, because he keeps touching his neck, gnawing at his lip. 

Yifan swallows thickly, setting his fork and knife down. “What’s wrong?” 

The sound seems to jar Sehun out of his thoughts. 

“Hm?” 

“What’s wrong with you?” Yifan asks, gesturing to where Sehun is rubbing his throat. “Are you unwell?” 

“I… I have to hunt,” Sehun says, and he frowns. “I’m sorry.” 

“Then hunt,” Yifan advises. “I wouldn’t like to see you turn on me.” 

Sehun looks down to the grain of the wood table. “No, of course not. I-I made an oath, you know.” 

Yifan smiles over his next forkful, and he watches with interest as Sehun excuses himself. He exits through the back door, the door that leads through the new garden, clean to the forest. Yifan lets the cool night breeze brush against the back of his neck before it’s gone, and he finishes his meal in silence, a vague sort of pulling sensation in the bottom of his stomach. When he’s finished, he goes to the sink, washing his dishes, and then, he stands by the window. He doesn’t see Sehun, only sees the line of the trees. 

He doesn’t know why, but he shoves his feet into his boots, and he leaves the same way Sehun did. 

He’s wandered the woods many a time, of course, foraged for wild mushrooms and hunted for monsters who thought they could seek refuge here. He knows his way around quite well. The forest clicks and coos and hums with the sounds of bugs and duskbirds and creatures of all manner, and Yifan closes his eyes to take it all in for a moment. He thinks this might be the most peaceful place in the world. The place he likes best. 

He lets the sounds guide him as he walks, eyes closed as he hunts the hunter. A little smile creeps onto his face as he imagines the look of surprise and shock on Sehun’s face. _Caught._ Wouldn’t it be delightful? There is something so youthful about him, so pure and right. Yifan would like to take some of that for his own. 

Perhaps he’s been the monster all along. 

When he comes upon the stream, he hears the telltale sounds. 

_Oh,_ Yifan thinks with a smile. _He’s improved._

He opens his eyes to find the babbling brook providing excellent sound cover for Sehun, stalking his prey. There is a six-point buck bedded near the water, and Yifan’s heart races in his chest as he stays stock-still, watching as Sehun eyes it. It’s near dark, and Yifan can’t see much now, but there is a thrill waving through his body, something delirious and captivated. He watches with interest, no, with _complete absorption_ as Sehun leaps forward with not even a sound, mouth at the deer’s neck. 

Yifan holds his breath as he watches the dark shadow at Sehun’s throat move, shifting as he sucks deeply from the throat of the deer. The hair along Yifan’s arms stands, and he blinks wetly as something jumps through him. Not fear or disgust or rage, but a distant sort of… _arousal_. 

He breathes out shakily, and that, that’s all Sehun needs. 

He looks to Yifan, locating him within the same fraction of a second, and his eyes are blown wide with red, with lust, with terror. 

“What are you doing?” Sehun asks, and his mouth is blood red and dripping. “ _Y-What are you doing here?_ ” 

“I-I don’t know,” Yifan says softly. “I’m sorry.” 

Sehun is sucking down air now, chest heaving. He brushes some of the scarlet away from his face with the back of his hand, but it only makes him look that much lovelier. 

“P-Please, leave,” Sehun says, and his eyes are wet with those iridescent tears, his mouth slick with the blood of the buck. 

Yifan walks back towards the cabin in a daze, completely unaware of what just took hold of him. He splashes some water on his face as he waits for Sehun to return after his hunt, but he doesn’t return, not within the half hour, nor within the hour, nor within the next. 

He stands at the back door, thinking about calling Sehun’s name. 

In the end, he goes to his bed, and he lies awake hoping to hear the creaking of the hinges.  
  


†

Yifan wakes the next morning overwhelmed by shame. He doesn’t know what overcame him, but it was embarrassing to say the least. He doesn’t know why he wanted to watch him. Doesn’t know why he couldn’t stop himself.

He lies in his bed, and he thinks about the way the little vampire has changed. Certainly, he is not so little anymore. He grows stronger and stronger by the day. Yifan thinks that, if he wanted to, he could hold his own against Yifan in a fight. He’s quick, agile, smart. 

_Blood dripping from his teeth._

Yifan shivers, and he puts the strange thoughts from his mind. It was a singular mistake. He won’t let it happen again. 

He sits up, and he looks around. The cabin looks completely unchanged, as though Sehun did not return in the night. Against his will, Yifan’s heart thumps with worry, and he gets out of bed, shoving his feet into his boots again. He’s intent on finding Sehun, on apologizing, on— 

Throwing the door open, he finds Sehun lying next to the garden bed, eyes on the morning clouds as he stares up. He does not look as well-rested as a freshly fed vampire should. He looks weary. Rundown. 

“I was worried,” Yifan says suddenly. 

Sehun does not look away from the sky. “Why, hunter?” 

A pang of pain in his chest. Yifan staunchly ignores it. 

“You did not return,” Yifan says. “I thought… well, I thought you might never return.” 

Sehun blinks, and his mouth is set in a sad line like the imaginary kinds drawn between men. He turns that look on Yifan, makes his stomach turn. 

“How could I not return to you?” Sehun asks. “I-If nothing else, I wanted to apologize.” 

“Apologize? To me?” 

“You saw me in a way I’d hoped you’d never see me,” Sehun whispers, and he looks back to the clouds. “You saw me in my worst moment. You saw me in a most unsatisfactory way.” When he turns his gaze back to Yifan, his eyes are dusty with those tears again. “I’m sorry.” 

“I—Look, I should be apologizing to you,” Yifan says, and he folds his arms over his chest. “I had no business chasing after you. I don’t… well, it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that you accept the apology. I’m sorry.” 

“You don’t hate me?” Sehun asks. 

“Why would I hate you?” Yifan asks, eyebrows buckling in confusion. 

“Because I killed a creature with such violence and force,” Sehun says, eyes still wet. He closes them quickly, and his lashes glitter when he opens them again. “How could you look at something like that and not imagine me… not imagine me doing something like that to _you_?” 

Yifan’s mind takes off with the image, Sehun’s mouth on his neck, a hand sprawling across the nape of his neck. Would his knees go weak before Sehun stopped drinking from him? Would it hurt? Or worse… would it feel as delicious as Yifan thinks it might? 

“Don’t worry about that,” Yifan says tightly. 

“I worry about it constantly,” Sehun confides. 

“You can’t hurt me.” 

“I might,” Sehun says. 

“You won’t.” 

“And if I try?” 

“I don’t think you have the stomach for it,” Yifan smiles, and Sehun stares at him for another couple seconds before breaking into a sunny smile too. “See, isn’t this silly?” 

Sehun laughs, and he brushes the stray tears away from his face. “I suppose it is.” 

“Go inside,” Yifan advises. “Bathe. You smell like the floor of the forest.” 

“I don’t mind the river,” Sehun says, but he pushes up off the ground anyway, brushing himself off. “We should water the seeds before the sun rises too high.” 

“You go on,” Yifan says, “I’ll take care of this out here.” 

“All right,” Sehun says, and Yifan turns towards the bucket, about to get to work, but then he feels Sehun’s hand on his shoulder. He turns, and Sehun takes a step back. “Um.” 

“Yeah?” 

“I just… I’m sorry if I seemed cross with you,” Sehun says. 

“I already told you, it was my own damn fault.” 

“It was only because… well, it makes it hard to resist when I’m already… oh, you know. Because in truth, y-you,” Sehun says quickly, almost frightened like a bunny, “you smell quite good.” 

_He knows not what he does,_ Yifan reminds himself, stomach boiling now. _He knows not what he does._

“Do I?” Sehun nods, biting his lip. “Well, I… I won’t happen by while you’re eating anymore.” 

Sehun breathes out with a relieved little smile on his face. 

“All right,” he says, and he heads inside, leaving Yifan to bury his feelings in the dirt.  
  


†

The garden flourishes under Sehun’s hand. Yifan buys him a book from the shop, then another and another, and Sehun reads all day and night about the various forms of care for the plants. Yifan leaves for days at a time, off for a job, and Sehun becomes his constant. He comes home happy to see Sehun, happy to see the way the summer changes him.

“Come see the berry bushes,” Sehun says, and he pulls Yifan by the forearm after his latest trip. 

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Yifan says gruffly. “Careful now.” 

“You’ll be so glad to see the way they’ve taken,” Sehun says cheerily. “Truly, I think I’m really becoming quite the gardener.” 

They walk through the cabin out through the back door, and Yifan’s eyes go wide as he beholds the bounty before him. Sehun is truly magnificent. 

As the season blooms and unfurls around them, they are surrounded by the splendor of Sehun’s work. Big fat green leaves sprout from the earth where they planted the lettuce and the radishes, and Yifan walks along the rows in wonder. The bushes and trees of berries and nuts are full of fruits, and Yifan plucks a deep red cherry from the tree, holding it up in front of himself to marvel at it. 

“My, you’ve done well,” Yifan says. 

“Have I?” Sehun asks. “Taste it, won’t you?” 

Yifan lets the fruit slip between his lips, the bright red juice spilling out sweetly over his tongue. He savors in the taste, eyes closing, and he sighs out. Surely, this is the taste of home. This is the taste of bliss. 

“Well?” Sehun asks, and Yifan opens his eyes, spits the pit to the soil. 

“A fine job,” Yifan smiles. 

“ _Fine_ ,” Sehun scoffs. 

“Very fine,” Yifan tries. 

“Whatever you say, hunter,” Sehun smiles. “Whatever you say.”  
  


†

Yifan never imagined it would come to this, this… situation. He never really thought of an exit strategy, a way to move Sehun out of his home and into a new world. Sehun is there when he wakes, there when he returns from a hunt, and there when he sleeps. He learns quite a bit more about Sehun than he ever intended to, shares more about himself than he thought there was to share. He is an easy person to talk to, an easy person to care for, and Yifan finds himself caring more and more as the days grow long, summer thick in the air.

The windows are propped open to let what little cool air there is inside, and Sehun sits shirtless at the table, reading Yifan’s latest gift to him, the almanac. He prattles on about fall harvest, pumpkin pies, and Yifan watches him from his recline on the bed. His eyes are hooded, exhausted by the heat, and Sehun sits there unable to feel it. 

_Bastard._

“Are you even listening?” Sehun asks. 

“No,” Yifan says. 

“This is why you don’t have many friends.” 

“Lucky I have you then,” Yifan says, and he opens his eyes a bit too wide as he realizes what he’s just said. 

“Yes, I suppose it is quite lucky,” Sehun smiles. “As I was _saying_ , have you ever gardened by the moon?” 

“By the moonlight?” 

“No, by the moon,” Sehun says. 

“I’m afraid I’m not following,” Yifan says. 

“Oh, forget it,” Sehun whispers. “It’s all silly anyway.” 

“What is it?” Yifan asks. 

Sehun looks up, hopeful, and Yifan raises his brows. 

“They say you’re supposed to plant above ground plants in the _light_ of the moon, or the waxing, and below ground plants in the _dark_ of the moon. The waning.” 

“Sounds a little silly,” Yifan says, and Sehun’s face falls slightly. “But not completely ridiculous.” 

Sehun smiles, light leaping back into his eyes. 

“No?”

“Not terribly so, no,” Yifan says. 

“I suppose it’s worth a shot,” Sehun smiles. “After all, they promise tastier, more bountiful harvests.” 

Yifan stares at him, the handsome way he lounges, his long fingers turning the pages. Yifan studies him for a few more seconds, and he thinks about the exit strategy. How could he ever turn Sehun away now, now when his life has become so focused on him? 

“Have you ever thought about trying to find your Sire?” Yifan asks. 

Sehun frowns. “Why would I want to find him?” 

“To ask him questions,” Yifan says. “To kill him.” 

“I hadn’t thought about it,” Sehun says. “Not once since you found me.” 

Yifan smiles, puts the thought away for the moment.  
  


†

The thought returns to him the following day and the day after that, as _put away thoughts_ often do. As it turns out, thoughts don’t like to be told no.

Yifan has work several towns over, and he packs his bag full, prepared for the journey. He takes his revolver from the mantle, and Sehun says his goodbyes at the door. Yifan’s heart tenses inside the cage of his chest. 

“Stay safe, won’t you?” Sehun says, and he adjusts the collar of Yifan’s shirt gently, like something a lover might do. “How long again?” 

“Two weeks,” Yifan says, and his mouth is totally dry. “I’ll try to be quick about it.” 

“Not so quick that you make mistakes,” Sehun smiles. “Promise?” 

Yifan balls his hands into fists. “I promise.” 

Sehun’s eyes glide down over Yifan’s face almost like a caress down his cheek and the soft of his neck. _My scar._

“All right, hunter,” Sehun smiles, and he pats his hands on Yifan’s shoulder. “Get going.” 

Yifan wants to say something else, but he can’t find the courage without alcohol, so he turns from Sehun, grabs his bag from the floor, and heads towards the train station. 

The journey west is easy, but the whole while, he thinks of Sehun. He thinks of the Sire. What might he look like? Why might he have chosen Sehun? Why did he leave? Is it Yifan’s job to kill him? 

He arrives in Whiteflower in three days, and his bones are in need of a decent rest. He books himself a room at the inn before he even checks in with the people who’ve hired him, and he closes his eyes with questions swirling in his head. 

He wakes a few hours later, feeling rejuvenated even as the sun sets around him. The tavern below the inn rages in the night, and Yifan heads downstairs to the sound of raucous laughter. He gets himself a meal, tenderloin steak with fried onions and steamed potatoes slathered in butter, string beans and stewed tomatoes, and a billberry pie for dessert. He eats until he’s full, washes it down with a mug of dark amber beer. 

He asks the bartender for the sheriff, and the bartender points towards the dark corner of the room with a fearful look in his eye. 

_Oh,_ Yifan thinks. _It’s one of those towns now._

He ambles on over, takes the free seat that’s sitting there calling his name, and he looks at the man across from him, a woman tucked into his arm. 

“Believe you’re the one I got business with,” Yifan says. 

“No business no more,” the sheriff says. 

Yifan raises his brows. “No?” 

“Nope,” the sheriff says. “Reckon you took too long. Rangled up the thing my damn self.” 

“Well, all right,” Yifan says, and he leans back in his chair. “No need to fuss.” 

“I’m not fussing none,” the sheriff says. “Just didn’t want you raising hell. I’m not paying you for a job you didn’t complete.” 

Yifan gives him a shrug. “I don’t mind. Nice to get out of the town every once in a while.” 

The sheriff laughs, gives the girl at his side a squeeze with his arm. “That podunk little village of yours… what do they even need a hunter like you for, huh?” 

“Everybody’s got monsters, I guess,” Yifan says, and he feels the distinct urge to leave at that very moment, sitting across from one. 

“I guess you’re right,” the sheriff nods condescendingly. “After all, this is the one that broke into that sanatorium, ain’t it?” 

Ice drips down the back of Yifan’s neck. “What?” 

“Oh, you didn’t hear ‘bout all that?” the sheriff asks, and he reaches forward, grabbing a toothpick. He begins cleaning his teeth with it. “Well, word travels fast around these parts. Ended up stealing some kid away, I thought. Though maybe I’m misremembering… couldn’t have slipped past _you_.” 

He laughs boisterously, and the girl smiles. Yifan tries to keep a lid on it, tries not to lose his nerve. 

“You caught him, then?” Yifan asks. 

“Only after he slaughtered an old man,” the sheriff says. “It was a _bloodbath_.” 

He says it almost as though he rejoices in the carnage, and Yifan turns away from the man entirely, unable to face him any further. In Yifan’s estimation, he is completely repulsive, and he’d rather not spend any more time in his presence. 

“Can I speak to the leech before I leave town?” he asks, eyes low. 

“What would you want with a loathsome wretch like him?” the sheriff laughs, but there is a jingling sound, and Yifan turns, catching the ring of keys from the air. “No matter to me one way or the other, hunter. Leave the keys on the desk when you’re through. Talk all you want, but leave some of him for me. He’ll burn at City Square at dawn.” 

And so this is Yifan’s last chance. He turns his back on the sheriff, and he heads back upstairs to gather his things. He doesn’t want to hang around to see the killing. Lately, every job gets a little more difficult, feels a little less like justice. 

He gets his bag, slings it over his shoulder, and he heads to the jailhouse. 

It’s quiet. It’s only a triple cell house, something like a holdover stop to county, and there is only one prisoner in the jail tonight, the vampire who sired Sehun. 

Yifan sets his bag on the desk, sets the keys down too. He steadies his breath, knowing that the vampire already knows he’s here. Can he smell Sehun on him? Can he smell Yifan’s desperation from there? 

He steels himself, and he walks down the hall, stopping before the bars. There, sitting against the wall, is the Sire. He is, like Sehun, supremely handsome. He has dark hair, dark eyes. He is slight, lovely and fair. And he is exhausted, it seems. 

“Has the morning come already?” he asks. “Have you come to take me?” 

“No.” 

“Who are you?” 

“My name is Yifan,” he says. “I am a hunter.” 

His face cracks into surprised realization. “Ah. I know your name, hunter.” 

Yifan looks down. “I’m sure you do.” 

“You here to kill me?” the Sire asks, voice weak, not with hunger, but with emotion. 

“I thought I was,” Yifan whispers. “I thought I was gonna look at you and wanna kill you, but I just… I see you, and I pity you.” 

“Thank you,” the Sire says, and it sounds genuine. Sounds like he welcomes the pity. 

He stares at the vampire for several seconds, unsure what to say next. What was his purpose, coming here? What does he want to know? What does he seek to gain? 

“Why did you do it?” 

“Why did I do what?” he asks softly. 

“The boy,” Yifan clarifies. “The sanatorium.” 

“Oh,” he says gently, eyes slipping shut as he falls into memory. “I don’t know now. I think I… you know, it must sound crazy to you, a hunter of my kind, but I think I wanted to help the poor thing. He was dying, you know.” 

“I know,” Yifan says brokenly. “I know.” 

Another moment passes, and the vampire lets his head rest against the stone wall of the cell. Yifan lets it breathe between them, feeling emotions rise within him, a cloudy storm. 

“Did you kill him?” the Sire asks finally, sitting up straight. “The boy? Is he dead now?” 

“No,” Yifan says. “I… I found him, I did, but… he lives with me now.” 

The Sire’s mouth falls open in shock, a happy, joyful kind of shock, and he smiles at Yifan. 

“Truly? You aren’t lying?” 

“He drinks from deer,” Yifan says, and he feels tears welling in his eyes. “He’s a good kid.” 

“He is,” the Sire says. “He didn’t even frighten at the bite. Didn’t curse me or anything. Said… god, what did he say? I can barely remember now.” He breathes in, breathes out softly. “Of course. He said _thank you_. Kept saying it over and over again.” He shakes his head side to side, smiles. “A good kid.” 

Yifan looks away. “I cherish him.” 

“Do you?” the Sire asks. “I’m glad.” He lets his head fall back against the wall again, a sleepy smile on his face. “I’m glad.” 

“What happened to land you here?” Yifan asks. “You’re still so young.” 

“Oh, hunter. I am not young,” the Sire says. “I am old now. Tired of this life.” 

“And you killed an old man?” 

“He asked for mercy,” the Sire says. “The mercy of death.” 

“Did you torture him?” 

“Can I confide in you?” 

“Yes,” Yifan says. “Please.” 

“I know it’s hard for some of your kind to realize, but there is no wanton cruelty ingrained within us,” the Sire tells him. “I loved that man. I gave him a peaceful death. An honorable one. A death fit for someone who was cherished.” 

Sehun’s face comes to his mind, and Yifan closes his eyes. 

“The sheriff said—”

“The sheriff will say anything to get what he wants,” the vampire says. “Did he tell you there was gore?” He looks deeply into Yifan’s eyes. “Was it the mouth of a river of blood?” Yifan stays silent, and perhaps that is enough. 

“Why didn’t you run?” 

“What is there to run from now?” the Sire asks. “I am ready, same as he was. We were both looking for the end. Now, I’ve found it.” He looks around him blankly. “I only wish it was a bit prettier.” 

“You seem a good man,” Yifan judges. 

“Do I?” The Sire shakes his head. “I’ve misled you. I’ve done much wrong in these long years.” 

_Haven’t we all?_

“I just have… I have a question,” Yifan asks, and he can feel the cry building within him. 

“Ask it, hunter,” the Sire says, “though I may not have the answer you wish to hear.” 

“How could you leave him like that?” Yifan asks. “The boy.” 

The vampire before him sighs out, combing through his hair with his hand. 

“I knew I would be no good for him,” the Sire says. “Look where I am. And look at him. I’m marching towards my end. And what about him?” 

_Him_ , Yifan thinks, heart going gold. _He is flowering under the sun. He is the loveliest creature I’ve ever seen. He is goodness. He is all that is right in the world. All the beauty wrapped up in a neat little package. He is well. He is doing well. He is just beginning._

“That’s what I hoped,” the Sire says weakly. “A fresh start for him. And he’s found it. With you.” 

Yifan wants to cry, hearing such words. He reaches forward, reaches through the bars, and the vampire breathes in. 

He sticks out his hand for a shake, and the Sire gets to his knees before standing up straight. He takes Yifan’s hand, shakes it, and those beautiful iridescent tears fall down his face. 

“I’m sorry to ask this of you,” the vampire says. 

“Ask.” 

“Kill me,” he says, gentle and smooth like velvet. “I’ve heard it hurts to burn. A-And they’ll try their best to make it hurt.” 

Yifan laughs over the tightness in his throat. “Should have waited to kill the man. I was assigned to do just that anyway.” 

The vampire drops Yifan’s hand with a sober, wet laugh. 

“Make use of that silver bullet then, won’t you?” the Sire asks. “As a favor to me?” 

_Mercy_ , Yifan amends. _Yes, I shall grant you mercy if you so desire it. I am not the person meant to do such a thing, but if you ask… then I will try._

He shoots Sehun’s sire dead in the little jailhouse that evening, and as he skips town, catches the next train home, Yifan thinks that that might be his last job for a great long while. Maybe for the rest of his life.  
  


†

He heads home with an ache in his chest, and he doesn’t know why. That’s what he tells himself. _I don't know why I feel like this. I don’t know where the feelings come from. I don’t even think they’re real._ These are things he’s had to tell himself in order to survive. And now… now everything has changed.

Now, he’s past the point of survival. 

Yifan unlocks the door, and he finds Sehun sprawled across his bed, tucked under his covers. The ache in his heart grows wilder and wilder, spreading like a vibration through his body. 

“Y-You’re home,” Sehun says, the ends of his surprise fastening with the beginnings of delight. “I thought you said you’d be two weeks.” 

Yifan doesn’t answer his question, asks his own instead. 

“Did you miss me?” 

“O-Oh, terribly,” Sehun smiles, and he gets out of Yifan’s bed, neatly folding the blankets back up. “I’m sorry, I was planning on preparing a welcome home dinner, but since—well, since you’ve caught me by surprise…” 

Wild, wild heartache. Dangerous and ravenous. He lets a smile burst onto his face, overwhelmed by it all. 

“It’s all right,” Yifan says, looking down as he tries to hide it away. “Whatever you feel up to making.” 

“There’s still a cut of roast,” Sehun says. “Perhaps some scalloped potatoes… a nice salad to go along with it? I could dress it nicely with that sunflower oil and white wine vinegar.” 

“Whatever you feel.” 

“What do _you_ feel?” Sehun asks. 

_A bit too much,_ Yifan thinks. 

“That sounds nice,” he admits. 

“Right then,” Sehun smiles, and he turns to get to work. 

Yifan sets his bag down, unholsters his gun and puts it on the mantle where it stays. He watches as Sehun works, sitting at the table as Sehun fixes supper for him. He lets his mind wander a little too far, and his eyes fall over the gentle curves of Sehun’s body. He’s only roused from his daydreaming by the sound of Sehun’s voice as he turns, setting the plate down in front of Yifan. 

“What?” Yifan asks. 

“I asked what happened with the job,” Sehun says, and he sits across from Yifan, smiling at him. 

“There wasn’t a job,” Yifan says. “Already caught the guy by time I got there.” 

“Ah, I see,” Sehun nods. “Does that happen often?” 

“No, not especially often.” 

“Ah.” 

For want of something to do, Yifan picks up his fork, pokes at his food. He shouldn’t say it. He shouldn’t say it, but he must. 

“I found the man that turned you,” Yifan says, the words jumping out of him. “He was near death.” 

“W-Why?” 

“Why what?” 

“Why did you find him?” 

“What kind of silly question is that?” Yifan says. “It was serendipity.” 

“How do you mean?” Sehun asks. 

“He was the job,” Yifan says. “I didn’t know it until I got there.” 

“And so that was it? You heard he was caught, and then you turned around and came home?” 

“I… I went looking for him. I spoke to him,” Yifan admits. 

“Why? Why’d you go looking for him?” 

Sehun is asking so many questions, but he doesn’t sound mad, more… more curious. Delving too deep. 

“Because I… I don’t know,” Yifan says. “I don’t know why I went looking for him.” 

“Not because you felt like it was your job? Not because you _wanted_ to kill him? Not because you wanted to stop him from ever turning someone ever again?” 

Yifan wavers. These are the reasons he should have gone in search of the Sire. These are the only acceptable reasons. Sehun lists them out quite plainly, and still… 

Yifan’s never been much of a liar. Sure, he’s got a good poker face, but lying? 

He keeps quiet, and he supposes that the silence is answer enough, because Sehun attempts to search his face, looking for the answer that Yifan will never say aloud. 

_I went looking for him because I wanted to know how he could do what he did to you. I wanted to know how he could just leave you. I wanted to know if I could learn to leave you too. But I can’t. I know that now. I could never leave you. I love you too much. I’ve grown to cherish you as I cherish my next breath, as I cherish the blood in my body. You are a part of my surviving, but you are something greater. You are living. You are life._

“Aren’t you going to eat?” Sehun asks quietly. 

“I don’t… I don’t feel very hungry, honestly,” Yifan says, but he doesn’t want to hurt Sehun’s feelings. 

Luckily, Sehun smiles, nods. 

“Come outside with me,” he whispers. 

“Why?” 

“You look like you’ve not seen the sun in days,” Sehun smiles. “Come with me.” 

He offers Yifan his hand, and Yifan hesitates before he jumps in headfirst, tangling his fingers with Sehun’s. It is the closest they’ve ever been, the most they’ve ever touched, and it sends a thrill coiling around his spine. 

They walk into the garden, and it sprawls with life. It smells like wet soil, a scent that he’s come to associate with Sehun now. He comes in smelling like dirt, and even when he washes, he rarely gets all the soil out from beneath his fingernails. He is barely more than a boy, Yifan reminds himself, just twenty two years of age. 

For a moment, they do nothing but stand there. Yifan holds the time carefully in his heart, doesn’t want it to spill. Eventually, Sehun unlaces their fingers, and he walks off towards the berry bushes. He stands there, staring into the wood, and Yifan watches the gentle swing of his body back and forth. 

“There was a rumor among the people,” Sehun says, and he looks back over his shoulder. “I heard it when I was young.” 

“Oh?” 

“That vampires couldn’t stand in the sun,” Sehun says, and he wipes at his face. “Isn’t that silly?” Yifan makes a wordless noise. “The first thing I wondered… the first thing that concerned me, not the blood or the—you know, the immortality… I cared about the sun.” Yifan watches as he shuts his eyes peacefully, as the milky, iridescent tears streak down his face. “I wondered if I would never feel it again.” 

“But here you are,” Yifan says, and the sweat beads along his brow. “Standing in the sun.” 

“It is warmer even than I remember,” Sehun says, and eyes still shut, he smiles. 

Yifan says nothing for a while, just watches Sehun drink in the light, basking in the day like he could sip from it. 

“It was an old wives tale,” Yifan says softly. “Something to make people feel more… secure, I think.” 

Sehun makes a sound.

“It does make me… thirsty,” Sehun says, and he opens an eye with a smile. 

“You thirst?” 

“More in the sun,” Sehun whispers. He tilts his head up, baring his long, white throat. “I can almost taste it.” 

“Y-You shouldn’t dwell on it.” 

“You’re right,” Sehun says. “As always.” 

Yifan feels an unnameable tension between them, something thick and impenetrable, though he can’t say for certain why it’s there. 

“Yifan, your scar,” Sehun whispers. 

“What about it?” 

“I could help you,” Sehun offers. “I could rid you of it.” 

Sehun stretches a hand out like he wants to stroke his fingers along Yifan’s face. 

Yifan lets his eyes drip over Sehun’s skin, and for a second, he imagines himself in Sehun’s shoes. It is easy to drift into the part. The power. The adrenaline. Grazing his teeth along the soft skin, sinking in. Drinking so hard that his throat hurt after, his stomach settling happily. 

He looks away quickly, even more alarmed than usual at the thoughts that just streaked across his mind unbidden, unwanted. 

“Yifan?” 

He turns back. “What?” 

“Are you well?” 

“I’m fine,” Yifan says. “I, uh, I’ve got to go.” 

He goes back into the house, chest heaving with emotion as he grabs his money from the mantle. He tries to quiet the storm inside him as he walks off, thinking of Sehun’s tears, the relief on his face, the love that Yifan feels streaking through him, waves of it bigger and bigger with every passing second. 

He goes into town, stopping at the tavern. It’s empty, and the barkeep is standing behind the bar, wiping down glasses. 

“Hunter?” 

“Beer,” Yifan says, and then as an afterthought, “please.” 

“You look atrocious,” the barkeep says. “And it’s not even past five.” 

“Keep your judgments to yourself,” Yifan says. “I don’t pay for those.” 

“Just the beer?” 

“Just the beer,” Yifan says. 

“All right,” the barkeep says, and he fills a mug full of beer, sliding it over as Yifan takes a seat at the bar. “Is there something you’d like to talk about?” 

“I don’t want to talk.” 

“Okay,” the barkeep says. “I’ll keep my mouth shut then.” He goes back to drying his glasses as Yifan takes a sip. “How’s work been?” 

“What happened to keeping your mouth shut?” 

“We both know that’s not what you want,” the barkeep says, smiling at Yifan. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with that boy, now would it?” 

“No,” Yifan lies.

“All right.” 

More silence, and Yifan drains about half of his mug quickly, the alcohol bubbling down his throat. 

“H-He’s different,” Yifan says suddenly, almost like the words are pulled out of him by something beyond this realm. “He’s… I don’t think he’s like other leeches.” 

The barkeep’s face goes sullen. “What makes you say that?” 

“He’s kind,” Yifan says, and he stares at the foam clinging to the glass. “He’s… he’s good.” 

“None of their kind… well, never mind,” the barkeep says. 

Yifan looks up. “No. Say what you mean.” 

“They’re clever,” the barkeep says. “They know how to manipulate.” 

“He’s not manipulating me.” 

“You’d think that even if he was,” the barkeep argues. “There’s nothing I could say to change your mind, is there?” 

“No,” Yifan says. “Not in the least.” 

The barkeep sighs. “I don’t know that I can keep serving you.” 

It hits Yifan a bit too hard. He leans back in his seat, staring at the man that he’s spent many a night with. He confided in him, thought he’d found a friend, and yet… 

“Over something so small?” Yifan asks. 

The man shrugs. “It isn’t small around here.” 

“Y-You said you held no ill will towards their kind,” Yifan says. “Did I dream you saying that or have you changed your mind?” 

“I haven’t,” he says, “but if word gets around… well, let’s just say that it wouldn’t be good for either of us.” 

“I-I’ve only told you,” Yifan says. “He’s been keeping away. He’s smart. He’s kind, h-he’s no danger, not to anyone. He can barely hurt a deer.” 

“I’ve heard that before.” 

“I mean it.” 

“Finish your beer,” the barkeep says. “On the house.” 

“You really mean it?” Yifan asks. “I’m not allowed to return?” 

“Kill the boy,” the barkeep advises. “It’ll be a blessing to him. It’ll be the best thing to ever happen to him.” 

Yifan entertains the idea for a split second, cutting it in half in his mind. The closing of the light in Sehun’s eyes. The youthful, charismatic look draining from his face. His mouth parted gently, the exhale of his soul. Yifan shuts his eyes, driven mad by how much he hates the thought. How could he ever do something so monstrous? He would never. He could never. 

Yifan slides what’s left of the beer forward. He’ll leave. He’d rather have Sehun then have whatever this is. He’d rather have nothing but Sehun. 

“Y-You won’t be welcome in town,” the barkeep calls after him nervously. “They’ll call you sympathizer, and you’ll both be _burned_.” 

_Then let us both burn,_ Yifan thinks with a smile. He is in love, and he will protect Sehun until the ends of the earth. _Even if it hurts._  
  


†

From that point on, it gets increasingly difficult for Yifan to act normally around Sehun. He is well aware of how he feels about the vampire now, and that makes it of extra importance to keep those feelings locked away and hidden. After all, it’s not like Sehun asked for this, any of this. He’s been a passenger since the transformation, people leading him along. Yifan needs to do right by him, and that means keeping his hands and his thoughts to himself.

Sehun doesn’t make it easy, of course. His beauty is thoughtless, careless. Yifan sits at the backdoor, and he watches as Sehun kneels in the soil, hands in the dirt as he weeds. He made lemonade in the morning, and Yifan sips from a glass, refreshing with just a bite of acid. Yifan lets the sun warm his skin, the dying of the summer hot and fiery. 

“It’ll be nice,” Sehun says. “Harvest time.” 

“Yeah,” Yifan says. “Very nice.” 

“You haven’t worked since Whiteflower,” Sehun says casually, though Yifan can say with relative certainty that the casual tone is false. “Is everything all right?” 

“Everything’s just fine. I’ve got enough money to last us quite a while.” 

“I didn’t—well, never mind.” Sehun ducks his head and goes back to his weeding. 

“What?” 

“Nothing,” Sehun says. 

“Tell me plainly,” Yifan says, rolling his eyes. 

Sehun huffs. “I didn’t mean money.” 

“Well, what did you mean?” 

“I meant… are you all right?” Sehun asks, and he plucks a weed from the earth, tossing it into his bag. “Is everything okay?” 

“Yes, of course,” Yifan says. “Why wouldn’t it be okay?” 

“I don’t want you to make sacrifices on my account,” Sehun says. “I don’t want you to—”

“Stop,” Yifan says flatly, and Sehun stops. “I’m not doing anything on your account.” He takes a sip of his lemonade, letting it cool his throat as he sits back, eyes closed. “Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I wanted a break?” 

“Well… yes, it has.” 

“Consider this my break.” 

“And you’ll be home all the time?” Sehun asks. 

“For as long as it lasts,” Yifan says. 

He dares not open his eyes, but he hears a smile edge its way onto Sehun’s face. Yifan tries not to let that go completely fucking effervescent inside him, but sure enough, it bubbles along the inside of his skin, oxygenated and alive.  
  


†

The autumn settles over them coolly, but they prepare well, take every precaution as they stock firewood and coal and plant plenty of fall vegetables. Sehun gives Yifan tasks, telling him to pull his own weight now that he’s home much more often, and Yifan bites his lip as he lets Sehun boss him around. It’s silly, but he likes the way dominance looks along Sehun’s shoulder.

“You’ll have to go to the butcher’s soon,” Sehun says, checking an item off his list, and he points at Yifan with his pencil. “You’ve been putting it off.” 

“I don’t like going into town much anymore,” Yifan says, and he shrugs his shoulders. “I can go without meat.” 

“Don’t be silly,” Sehun says. “What’s wrong with going into town?” He wiggles his eyebrows at Yifan. “Are you trying to avoid a girl you fancy?” 

Yifan stares at him blankly. “Not exactly.” 

“Then what?” Sehun asks, head tilted in cute confusion. 

“I—It’s just not what I want,” Yifan says. “I don’t like being around people much.” 

The room is quiet, and strangely, Yifan feels peeled open, like Sehun can see inside him. He wants to cover up with his hands, but he can’t find the piece of him showing. His heart, perhaps. 

“Then let’s hunt,” Sehun suggests. 

“What?” 

“Let’s hunt,” Sehun repeats. “We can gather meat for you. Cure it for the winter. Oh! We could even brine roasts!” He looks Yifan up and down. “You’re a fair hunter.” Yifan scoffs as Sehun points at himself. “ _I’m_ an excellent hunter.” Yifan yells a laugh. “I don’t think there’s anything funny about my idea.” 

“No, I suppose not,” Yifan says. “But what about you?” 

“What about me?” 

“Won’t it be difficult to hunt with me around?” Yifan asks. 

“Ah, I’m better at controlling it now,” Sehun says proudly, folding his arms over his chest smugly. “I can help you.” 

“All right,” Yifan says. “Tonight.” 

“Tonight,” Sehun smiles. 

And so they prepare after Yifan’s supper. He takes his bow, his quiver full of arrows, and he slings it along his back. Sehun smirks at him, and Yifan rolls his eyes. 

“Listen…” 

“I am a weapon,” Sehun boasts. “I was crafted to hunt.” 

“Then get me five deer,” Yifan says. “Whoever gets to five quickest—”

“Wins a prize?” Sehun asks, eyes light. 

“Sure,” Yifan says. 

Sehun wins by a mile, and Yifan can’t even find it within himself to be upset that he lost. Seeing Sehun celebrate, seeing him happy… that’s worth losing. Worth losing everything.  
  


†

Yifan finds it exceedingly pleasant, being away from work. As the days go by, the cabin frequently smells like cinnamon and cloves, oranges and apples. His spirit lightens, feels nearly weightless as he spends week after week with Sehun. Sehun makes pies, talks about silly things, and Yifan feels himself talking back. Sharing in the silliness. It feels like forever since he’s laughed so hard, and some nights, whisky warm in his stomach, his face hurts from smiling so much.

“No more, no more,” Sehun laughs, and he steals the bottle away from him, putting it back in the root cellar where it belongs. “You’ll get yourself sick, and I won’t be cleaning you up.” 

“Sure you would,” Yifan says, mouth dry. “You’d take care of me.” 

“You sound so sure of yourself,” Sehun smiles. 

“I am.” 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Yifan says, staring at Sehun through hooded eyes. “I am.” 

“You’re drunk, hunter,” Sehun laughs. 

“Don’t call me hunter anymore,” Yifan says. “Call me Yifan.” 

“As you say,” Sehun nods, and then, “Yifan.” 

Yifan leans his head back, lets the song of his own name wash over him. It never sounds better than it does when Sehun is the one saying it. He thinks he could listen to it forever. 

“Stop,” Sehun says. “You’re too much.” 

“I’m not saying anything,” Yifan says. “Maybe you’re too much.” 

“Now I know you’re drunk,” Sehun says. 

“I’m not drunk, I’m just saying.” He points at Sehun. “You make good pie.” 

“Thank you,” Sehun smiles. “You think so?” 

“I do.” A beat. “Are you happy?” 

“Happy?” 

“Are you happy living here?” Yifan asks. 

“Yes, Yifan. I’m happy.” 

“Good,” Yifan says, and he closes his eyes. “That’s good.” 

“I think you’ve had a little too much this evening,” Sehun says softly. 

“Maybe,” Yifan says. 

“To bed,” Sehun says, and he gingerly threads his arm under Yifan’s, around his back. “Up you get.” 

He is so _strong_ , Yifan thinks, arm slung over Sehun’s shoulder. He’s grown so strong since living here. Strong and beautiful. Strong and lovely. 

“You think so?” Sehun smiles, and he gently sets Yifan down into his bed. 

“Yeah,” Yifan says. “Real strong.” 

“Close your eyes now,” Sehun says, and he sits at Yifan’s side until he falls asleep, though Yifan doesn’t think it takes especially long. 

He dreams of the points in Sehun’s mouth, cheerful and kind, and the look on his face when Yifan smiles at him. Could they be something more? Would it be wrong? Something so lovely couldn’t be wrong, surely not.  
  


†

They don’t talk much about that night, and Yifan is grateful for it. He doesn’t remember exactly what he said, but he knows he talks a bit more freely whenever he’s well and truly drunk which means that he ought to have stayed away from the whisky around Sehun. Something is bound to get out. And he doesn’t want that.

Does he? 

The winter comes quickly, and the snowfall is thick around them. Yifan keeps the cabin hot even though Sehun says he doesn’t feel the cold at all. It’s been months since he’s seen anyone besides Sehun, and though maybe that once would have made him question himself, he doesn’t question any longer. 

This isn’t nothing. This is love. 

They hunt in the evenings together, and sometimes, Yifan will catch Sehun with his mouth on the neck of a deer. It doesn’t seem to bother him the way it used to, so Yifan watches with interest. It’s not an affinity for the violence, but… but _some nights_ , he imagines himself on the ground, bloodlet and helpless. Some nights, he thinks about Sehun’s teeth scratching against his own flesh. 

He stares out the window as he imagines their bodies together. He’s been so good. He’s been so careful. It’s hard being good. Hard being careful. 

“We’re running low on meat, and it’s been a while since I’ve eaten,” Sehun says, jarring Yifan from thought as if on cue. “We should hunt tonight.” 

It comes to him as if from above. He doesn’t know how or why the words jump into his mouth, but he spits them out before he thinks, before he allows himself to take it back. 

_Say something before it’s too late_ , he tells himself. _Before you lose him._

“We mustn’t over-hunt these woods,” Yifan says. 

“What?” 

“The woods,” Yifan says, throat dry. “We shouldn’t hunt tonight.”

“Yifan, I must,” Sehun says. “I must hunt, or—”

“Or what?” 

“Or something bad might happen,” Sehun says. “I know I’m good at keeping it under control around you, but…” 

He steps closer to Sehun, slowly, slowly, like he’s stalking prey. Sehun takes a small step backwards, the fog around them dissipating if only for a second. Yifan takes another step, another, and Sehun freezes in his tracks. 

“But what?” he asks. 

“W-What am I to do?” Sehun wonders. “Where am I to go?” 

Yifan steps forward again, and Sehun’s back is against the wall. He braces himself, palms flat against the walls. Yifan’s gaze slides down over the column of Sehun’s unmarred throat, and he thinks _Oh, to mark him._

He thinks about the Sire, the illustrious, mysterious Sire. _Would I have been able to resist taking him? I don’t even thirst, and yet he possesses all my thoughts, stealing me away from everything else._

“Nowhere,” Yifan says, and his hands go to the wall, caging Sehun in. “You’re going to stay right where you are.” 

“It will kill me,” Sehun whispers, and his eyes slip down Yifan’s body, staring at the little distance between them, “hunter, you know it will kill me if I cannot drink.” 

“Call me Yifan.” 

“Yifan…” 

He comes when he’s called, and he finally, finally kisses Sehun. Sehun’s teeth are pointed and sharp as Yifan licks over them, tangling his tongue with Sehun’s. Sehun is tentative, gasping against Yifan’s mouth, but that only drives Yifan further, only makes him want _more_. He is sweet, he is tender, he is _lovely_. 

“Y-Yifan,” Sehun moans, “Yifan, I—”

“You must tell me if you don’t want me,” Yifan says, “and you must say so now before it’s too late.” 

“W-What do you intend to do to me?” Sehun asks, and _heaven above_ , he is delicious, the innocence still bubbling through him even though there is no blood. 

“I will give myself to you.” He lets the heat burn through him, letting the furious hunger rage in Sehun’s eyes. “I will let you drink from me.” 

“F-From you?” 

“You’ve never tasted a man’s blood before, have you?” Yifan asks, and he lets a kiss graze against Sehun’s cheek as he moves to whisper in Sehun’s ear. “Do you think it would taste good?” 

“Don’t tease me,” Sehun whispers. “D-Don’t torture me.” 

“It’s the only safe way for you to feed now,” Yifan says, and he presses a soft kiss to the shell of Sehun’s ear. “It’s the only way for you to drink.” 

“W—It is forbidden,” Sehun whispers. “You forbade me.” 

He draws back, stares at Sehun’s mouth, subtly pink. He imagines it dripping with red, and a tremble of desire courses through him in scarlet and oxblood. 

“But now, I grant you permission.” 

“W-What if I hurt you?” Sehun asks, a mark between his brows as he frowns. “I could never forgive myself.”

“You will not hurt me,” Yifan says. 

“You will make sure of it?” 

“I will make sure of it,” Yifan says, and he stares at Sehun’s mouth as he leans in again, pressing a sweet kiss to Sehun’s lips. 

“Why do you tempt me?” Sehun whispers, voice strained, _pained_. “Yifan, don’t…” 

“Is this blood within me not mine to give?” Yifan asks, and he kisses Sehun lushly, passionately, everything else besides the two of them falling away. 

“I cannot take it from you,” Sehun says, “not when I’ve done nothing to… earn it.”

“Earn me?” Yifan asks, raising a brow. “How might you do that?” 

“I… I—”

But Yifan interrupts the silly little vampire, steals the stutters away from his saliva-slick lips. It tastes sweet, sweet like sugar, and Yifan licks into Sehun’s mouth eagerly. He takes Sehun by the hips as he drags him away from the wall, pulling him over towards the bed. Sehun makes the most delicious sounds as Yifan gently lays his body down onto the bed, hand possessive over the slope of his neck. Yifan kisses Sehun like he means to keep him, and oh, what a thought. Keeping this man forever. 

“Do you really mean to let me drink from you?” Sehun says, voice quiet and soft, body writhing under Yifan’s torturously. “Truly?” 

“I would not offer my blood to you if I meant to rescind it later,” Yifan says. He kisses him fiercely, ferociously, like storms through the trees, hard, loud rainfall on leaves. The earth drinking from the sky. “You know me well, don’t you?” 

“I do.” 

“Then you know that I ask for things plainly,” Yifan says. “And I don’t like asking twice.” 

Without another word, not even another kiss, Yifan rolls Sehun on top of his body, Sehun’s thigh slotted between his. He looks especially beautiful from that angle, and Yifan watches in awe as iridescent tears gather at the corners of his eyes. The amber light of the fire paints him in such a handsome way. _Lovely_ , he thinks. _Lovely and lovely and_ lovely.

“Are you quite sure?” Sehun asks, looking so desperate and excited that it might just drive Yifan crazy. 

He grins as he pulls Sehun to his throat, bearing it as he tilts his head back against the pillows. He sighs as he feels Sehun’s mouth open along his skin, and he shuts his eyes, listening to the labored breathing of the virginal vampire overtop him. Rapture comes for him golden and bright when he feels the sharp points of Sehun’s teeth skimming along his neck, and he shudders out another weak breath. 

“You can never know how much I’ve longed for you,” Sehun whispers. “How much I’ve yearned for just one taste.” 

“Has it been killing you?” Yifan wonders. “What does my blood smell like?” 

“It sings to me,” Sehun says, reverent and teary. “It sings, Yifan, you… you are the smell of freshly dampened fire, the earth after a storm.” He presses a closed-mouth kiss to the hollow of Yifan’s throat, right where the blood is thrumming. “A forest overrun with richly colored wildflowers, a-and the blooming scent of spring.” 

“I’ve dreamt of this moment,” Yifan confesses. “So long.” 

“Not so long as I have,” Sehun whispers. 

“Then make it true,” Yifan says, and he shakes as Sehun opens his mouth again, teeth pressing into the flesh. “ _Sehun._ ” 

It is like nothing he imagined, and yet it is so much better than he could have possibly dreamed. He makes a strangled sound as Sehun’s teeth plunge into him, as the fantasy becomes reality, as Sehun’s lips seal against his skin. His eyes flutter shut, and he tries to keep his body still yet relaxed as frenetic energy begins to build, coursing in his nerves. 

Sehun moans against his skin, throat rolling as he swallows mouthful after mouthful of Yifan’s blood. Yifan bites his lip to keep from echoing the same moan, but there is something… there is something boiling deep down inside him. Something he’s never felt before. Not even anywhere _close_. Is this desire? How could desire be so… incandescent? 

Sehun draws back, tongue lapping at the wound, and he sits up, staring down at Yifan. 

“O-Oh,” Sehun whispers, and his mouth is bleeding. He licks at his lips, licking the tips of his teeth. “Oh, _I_ —” 

“Drink,” Yifan whispers. “Drink until you are full. Until you can feel it running through you everywhere.” 

“I…” 

He pushes his chin higher up into the air, and he feels a delicate trickle of blood streak down his neck. Sehun traces the movement, eyes blown wide with pleasure. He dips back down, licking the blood away from Yifan’s skin, and Yifan is forced to bite across a gasp, scared to let it seep out into the open air. 

When Sehun sinks his teeth back into Yifan’s throat, something is… immediately different. Yifan feels a swelling of heat building from his core, from the depths of his stomach. He struggles for a moment as Sehun drinks from him, the building wave coursing through him as he grips the sheets in tight, anxious hands. 

Sehun pulls back from him again, and his mouth is slick with blood. 

“Yifan,” he whispers, and the sound of his own name drips through him like liquid fire. “Yifan, you—”

“Drink,” he orders, and the heat blooms across his chest, his thighs, and his groin. He snaps his mouth closed so he can swallow the moan that bubbles up in his throat. “S-Sehun, I—”

“Does it hurt?” Sehun worries, and he strokes soft fingers down across the bite marks, twin punctures in Yifan’s neck. A tremble runs through his body, strung taut with a sudden bursting lust. “Does it hurt _terribly_? Oh, Yifan, I—” 

“It feels—again,” Yifan says. “Again. _Drink._ ” 

“Yifan, I can’t. Not much more.” 

“I will tell you when it is enough,” Yifan says, and he lets go of the sheets, grabs Sehun by the back of his neck. He pulls him down, dragging him down to the crook of his neck. “Kiss me again. Sip from me.” 

Sehun makes a soft, desperate sound as his teeth sink into Yifan once more. It feels like Sehun is sinking into Yifan’s body, a grinding, halting, yet _glittering_ satisfaction. Yifan moans brokenly as he squeezes his eyes shut. His body feels wet all over, slick with sweat, like he’s running a furious fever. He clings to Sehun’s body as if Sehun is giving Yifan the breath of life instead of the reality… stealing it from him. 

He barely drinks, Yifan notices, barely takes anything at all now, but the feeling of Sehun’s teeth inside him make him eager and needy. _Salacious._ He claws at Sehun’s back, tangling his fingers through Sehun’s hair. He wants so much more than this now. He wants… terrible, wonderful things. 

“That’s enough,” Sehun whispers, and he licks at the wound idly as it heals. 

He is dizzy by the time Sehun kneels over him, and Yifan stares up at him in wonder. He is glorious, sparkling with sweat. Yifan reaches up weakly, and Sehun laces their hands together. 

“Are you well?” Sehun asks. “Should I get you something?” 

“Please…” 

“What do you need?” Sehun asks. “Now that you have given so much to me, what could I possibly give to you?” 

“Give me your body,” Yifan begs. “Please. I crave it in a way I-I’ve never craved anything before.” 

“You are half mad,” Sehun whispers, and he squeezes Yifan’s hand in his. 

“Driven so by _you_. You are… you are _temptation_.” 

“I have loved you,” Sehun says, “for a hundred days and a hundred more, I have loved you.” 

“And I you,” Yifan confesses, “and I never knew… never knew you would bring me so high. I never knew I—” 

“Yes?” 

“I never knew it could feel like this,” Yifan says softly, the words all but falling out of his mouth, streaking down his body like raindrops along a pane of glass. 

Sehun crushes his mouth to Yifan’s, and it still tastes like metal, like blood. Yifan groans, the sound rumbling deep in his chest as he gives himself, tries to give his whole self to this beautiful person before him. 

“Please,” Yifan whispers. “Take me, please.” 

“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” Sehun whispers back, eyes blown wide by the blood lust. “You don’t know—”

“I know what I want,” Yifan says, and he tangles his fingers in the ends of Sehun’s hair, desperate and wild. “I want you.” 

“Hunter—”

“ _Yifan_.” 

“Yifan,” Sehun whispers, and he presses the name to Yifan’s lips again and again, trapping the sound between them in waves of delicious vibration. 

He moans softly against Yifan’s mouth as he absently grinds himself against Yifan, erection hard and wanton. Yifan groans as he spreads his legs under Sehun’s body, cradling him with himself as his heels dig into the bed. 

Sehun’s sounds, movements go more and more frantic as the heat builds to a furious apex, bright gold and sparkling with flame. _We’ll burn together_ , Yifan thinks, half-crazy with want. 

“Yifan,” Sehun whispers, a hand against the closed wound, the place where he drank from Yifan, the fountain of their love and lust. “Yifan, I—”

“Please,” Yifan says softly, reaching his hand down between their bodies to stroke along the length of Sehun’s cock. “Please, I beg of you.” 

“I’ve dreamt of this moment,” Sehun says, mouth wet with life. 

“Not so long as I.” 

Sehun groans as he pulls Yifan’s body into his embrace, thrusting against Yifan through their layers of clothes. There is something so innocent and pure about him, something untouched and lovely, and it only makes the perversion feel all the more delicious. More perfect. 

Sehun buries his face in Yifan’s neck as he moves against him, and Yifan kisses at Sehun’s ear, licking until he shivers. 

“Take your clothes off,” Yifan says, and Sehun’s body once again is wracked by a tremor. “Hurry.” 

He is boiling with affection as Sehun kneels over him, pulling his shirt over his head and throwing it to the side. Yifan reaches up with a curious hand, stroking it over the bare flesh. The muscles of his abdomen, his chest, his shoulders… they’re hard and tight, and Yifan wants to mouth along them, leaving marks of his love there. A reminder for the morning light. 

Sehun gingerly strips himself of his pants, his drawers, and his cock lays hard against his stomach. Yifan licks his lips as he stares at the length of it, overcome by hunger. 

“A-Are you sure?” Sehun whispers, as though he’s never thought of being with a man, as though this is brand new. 

“I’m sure,” Yifan says, and he pulls Sehun to him by the shoulders, crushing their mouths together in another fervent kiss. 

He gingerly rolls Sehun onto his back before getting up onto his knees, hurriedly pulling himself from his shirt, undershirt, pants, and drawers in much the same fashion as Sehun. He doesn’t take time to make it alluring, more efficient and determined, but when he looks down at Sehun, it occurs to him that it might not even have mattered. 

Sehun stares up at him with the dumb look of naked arousal on his face, eyes skimming along Yifan’s skin before he looks at Yifan’s cock, hanging hard between his legs. He reaches down, strokes it with a hand, and he spreads around the wetness at the tip. 

“Have you been with a man before?” Yifan asks. 

“No,” Sehun says, and even if Yifan was deaf, he could hear the nerves thrumming inside him. 

“A woman?” Yifan asks. 

“No.” 

Yifan’s stomach turns over as he takes Sehun in his arms, flipping Sehun back on top of him. 

“I’ll show you what to do,” Yifan whispers. “It isn’t hard.” 

Sehun laughs, biting his lip cutely as he looks down between their bodies. “Isn’t it?” 

Yifan gasps through a laugh as he pulls Sehun back into another kiss, because this time, there is nothing between them, no fabric to thrust through. They are grinding against each other, hot and hard and _perfect_ , and he can’t believe they waited so long to get to this lovely place. This lovely, lovely place. 

“The table,” Yifan says. “The jar in the drawer.” 

“What?” Sehun whispers, silly and stupid with sex. 

“Get the jar,” Yifan says, and his body goes a bit cold without Sehun to cover him, but he returns with the petroleum from the bedside table, passing it to Yifan. “I’ll show you.” 

Sehun gets onto his knees between Yifan’s spread legs, and Yifan unscrews the cap with shaking hands. He lifts some of the jelly onto his fingers, and he pets it along his hole as Sehun’s eyes go wide. 

“Try,” Yifan says, and he watches as Sehun reaches forward with interest, petting the slick pad of his finger along Yifan’s hole. “F-Fuck.” 

“Does it feel good?” Sehun wonders, pressing a little more insistently. 

“It will feel better once you’re inside,” Yifan says, and Sehun looks up, shocked. “What?” 

“You’ll—I’m… are you sure?” 

“It doesn’t hurt,” Yifan says. “It feels good.” 

“You’ve done it before?” 

“Yes,” Yifan says. “Isn’t that lucky?” 

Sehun doesn’t wear the look of fortune though, eyes green. 

“Oh, enough,” Yifan says. “Do you want to fuck me?” 

“Yes,” Sehun says without another thought. 

“Then do as I say,” Yifan says, and he pushes down the jar towards Sehun. “Put a finger inside me. Slowly, all right?” 

“All right,” Sehun says, and he coats his finger slickly, gently pressing it against Yifan, rubbing along the hole a couple times before trying to slide it in. “I don’t think it will go.” 

“You’re not pushing hard enough,” Yifan advises, though the careful insistent push is a pleasure all its own. 

“I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“You won’t,” Yifan says. “Put it in.” 

Sehun must take him at his word, because with another push, the finger slips inside. Yifan makes a soft sound as Sehun stares at him in wonder. 

“W-What do I do now?” Sehun asks, eyes glazing over Yifan’s body. 

“Wait a moment,” Yifan says, and he allows himself to become accustomed to a feeling that he’s not had in some time. “A-And now you… you move.” 

Sehun obeys well, slowly withdrawing his finger before slipping it back inside. He does it over and over again, touch deft and smart even though it’s his first time, and Yifan lets the fracturing pleasure move across his groin up through his abdomen, tight in his chest. 

“Another,” Yifan says. 

“Another?” Sehun asks. 

“Yes,” Yifan says, and he screws his eyes shut, an arm slung over his face as pleasure begins to seep through him like wine through white cloth. “Please.” 

“Does it feel good?” 

“Yes,” Yifan says brokenly. “It feels good.” 

Between the pull of one finger and the push of two, Yifan lets a little hollow sound fall from his lips, and he quickly bites it down. He spreads his fingers wide, loosens Yifan with an expert hand, and Yifan’s chest collapses with the need for air, air. 

He gasps as the pads of Sehun’s fingers brush against his prostate, a little thrill of lightning pleasure bolting through him. He grabs Sehun by the wrist, stilling his touch before he makes Yifan come before he’s even gotten inside. 

“Did it hurt?” Sehun asks, face streaked with worry. 

“No,” Yifan says. “No, it didn’t. It felt good.” 

“Then let me continue,” Sehun says, and he thrusts his fingers back inside Yifan’s body despite Yifan’s hold on him, making him shatter out a weak sound. “Is that good?” 

“You’re a natural,” Yifan grades breathlessly, and Sehun smiles at him. “Would you… are you ready?” 

“Are—Yes, I’m ready,” Sehun says, and he gets up from where he was sitting, kneels as he takes Yifan by the thighs. His cock is thick, hard, and wet as he rests it against Yifan. “Are you sure?” 

“I’ve never been more sure of anything,” Yifan whispers. “Fuck me.” 

Sehun’s eyes are hooded as he takes his cock in his hand, as he nudges the slick head against Yifan’s hole. It makes Yifan flutter, welcoming him inside, and without another word, without anything more, Sehun pushes inside in one fractured thrust, hips stuttering inside the warmth of Yifan’s body. 

“F-Fuck,” Sehun curses, and it’s the first time he’s heard such a word pass through Sehun’s lips. The obscenity makes Yifan’s stomach churn with heat. “You feel so good, Yifan. So good.” 

He pulls Sehun into his arms, legs crossed along Sehun’s back. He holds him still. 

“I think I’m going to come,” Sehun whispers fearfully. “I think I’m…” 

“No,” Yifan whispers, and he drags Sehun’s mouth to his own, biting across Sehun’s lips. “Not yet, hear me?” 

“But you feel—”

“Not yet,” Yifan says, and he kisses over the bite marks on Sehun’s lips, a calming, peaceful exchange. “Just breathe.” 

Sehun wraps his arms around Yifan’s back as they hold each other in the deepest, most luxurious embrace. They kiss softly, slowly, and Sehun listens to Yifan’s words, the steady movement of his chest against Yifan’s a basic but wonderful comfort. 

It is only a few moments of silence before Sehun kisses him a bit more passionately, the room filling with the smoke and haze of sex. 

“Do you feel the heat of my body?” Yifan whispers. 

“Yes,” Sehun whispers back. 

“Are you lying?” Yifan asks, a smile slipping onto his face. 

“No,” Sehun says. “I can feel you. The blood inside you is… it is so warm. So _hot_ , I think you could burn me if you wanted.” 

“Never,” Yifan whispers. “Never you.” 

Sehun shuts his eyes as he kisses Yifan again, as Yifan’s hands slip down from Sehun’s neck to settle on the breadth of his back. He gently scratches his nails against the skin, and it makes Sehun shudder. 

“Can I move?” Sehun asks, so quiet and careful. 

“Yeah,” Yifan says. “Move.” 

He starts off slowly, pulling out just a bit before pushing back in, and even that is enough to send all the air in Yifan’s lungs screaming towards the ceiling. He draws back out, pushing back in again, and Yifan struggles to hold himself together, the feeling of fullness overwhelmingly good. His eyes flutter shut as he tightens his legs around Sehun’s waist, heels hooking around his back. He doesn’t want to let him leave. Never. Never. 

It is a slippery slide, and Sehun falls from barely restrained hunger to wild thirst in the matter of seconds. The sound of their skin echoes as he fucks Yifan, as they meet over and over again. 

Sehun thrusts into Yifan with all the haste of his kind, eager and desperate. Yifan moans brokenly, the sound punched out of him as Sehun’s cock pushes deep, deep inside him. Yifan has never once admitted to himself, never once let himself have this in the light, but _god_ , Sehun is beautiful, so stunning and perfect. 

“You feel better than I ever could have imagined,” Sehun whispers, and he kisses Yifan lushly, passionately, like they’ve been building to this moment forever. 

Yifan can’t speak, afraid to let the sounds of pleasure fall from his mouth. He holds Sehun by the back of the neck, lust dripping down the back of his throat like sweetwater, filling him up. There isn’t an inch of him that isn’t covered with Sehun, and still, he wishes that he could take more of him. 

The desire inside him is insatiable, and he digs his nails into the soft skin at Sehun’s shoulders in order to hold onto him. He never wants to let him go. Never wants to be without him. Not even for a second. 

His pace goes erratic and arrhythmic as the fire grows, as the heat goes billowing and thick, the air shaking between them. He kisses Sehun with as much love as he has inside him, everything pouring out in waves as Sehun fucks him, as Sehun makes love to him, as they bind themselves together in the light of the hearth. They are here together in an endless moment. They can keep it forever. 

“I love you,” Sehun confesses. 

“I love you,” Yifan says, the words caught between them in a knot. Tears fill his eyes, gathering at the corners. “I _love_ you.” 

Sehun takes Yifan’s cock in his hand, and when he pulls at it, his fist is tight and wet. Yifan can barely breathe, can barely think as he spills out over Sehun’s hand onto his stomach. Pleasure laces through him, runs through his blood, and he can barely stutter out Sehun’s name before he thrusts his hips idly against Sehun’s stomach, grinding back and forth, back and forth. 

Sehun’s eyes are bright and hyper-focused, uncontrollable and full to the brim with need. Yifan lets his legs fall to the bed, letting Sehun take his pleasure as he sees fit. And he takes, takes, takes, the arousing sounds pouring out of him as Yifan’s body is lined with goosebumps. He is so very sensitive now, moaning with each erratic thrust, groaning as Sehun’s fingers tighten on his hips as he drives himself in harder and faster, powerful and strong. 

Sehun comes inside his body, and Yifan throws his head back into the pillows as he moans his appreciation, in joy. He is confident he’s never felt a more whole satisfaction, bone-deep and spidering out into his flesh. 

He collapses onto Yifan with a heaving chest, and they come together in an embrace that feels just as good as the first, perhaps even better. Yifan kisses Sehun softly, just a gentle press of their mouths. _This is real. This is all real._

He strokes careless fingers through Sehun’s hair as the world settles back into him. He still feels vaguely dizzy, but he supposes that’s to be expected. He smiles as Sehun falls to his side, head on Yifan’s chest. Yifan kisses the top of Sehun’s head, listening to Sehun’s satisfied sigh. 

“When you first saw me, did you know that this is where we’d end up?” Sehun asks. 

Yifan snorts. “I had never once considered it.” 

“Really?” 

“You were no more than a boy,” Yifan says. 

“I was a man,” Sehun says indignantly. “I _am_ a man.” 

“Say it with conviction or else no one will believe you.” 

Sehun slaps a hand across Yifan’s stomach, and it makes Yifan huff out a laugh. Sehun turns, head resting across Yifan’s shoulder as he looks into Yifan’s eyes. 

“Did you ever hate me?” 

“No,” Yifan whispers. 

“Did you ever despise yourself… for falling in love with me?” Sehun asks. 

Yifan looks away. “No.” 

“Say it with conviction,” Sehun teases, fingertips dancing along Yifan’s skin. 

He looks into Sehun’s eyes, challenging him.

“You have changed everything,” Yifan whispers. “Everything in my life… everything is different because of you. For the longest time, I was filled with hate and sorrow, but now… now I am filled with love and light.” 

Sehun smiles sadly, and his eyes flutter shut as he leans over to press a soft kiss to Yifan’s lips. 

“I have not changed you any more than you’ve changed me,” Sehun says. 

“On that, we must disagree,” Yifan says. 

“No, I don’t like disagreements,” Sehun hums. “I’ll convince you someday.” 

Yifan closes his eyes, thinking _unlikely._

He doesn’t know where the time goes, but before long, they watch the dawning of the sun, and while Yifan’s eyes are tired, his mind is wide-awake. Yellow light begins to pour into the cabin, bathing them in warmth, and Sehun curls up closer to Yifan. 

“You should sleep,” Sehun advises. 

“I don’t want to,” Yifan says. 

“You sound like a petulant child,” Sehun smiles. 

Yifan shoots him a look. “Then we must look a pair.” 

Sehun laughs, but he hugs Yifan close. “We are.” 

Yifan shuts his eyes and lazes in the embrace, all the naked skin and dried sweat and the swirling red feeling of new love. 

Later, though Yifan can’t say for certain how _much_ later, Sehun presses a kiss to Yifan’s cheek, right over his scar. 

“I know the difference now,” Sehun whispers. “I can feel it within me.” 

“The difference between what?” 

“Love and hate,” Sehun says. “Helping and hurting.” He lets his lip glide gently over the rough red skin. “Let me heal you, Yifan.” 

Yifan shuts his eyes, and the seconds pass like trembling sound waves. How did he end up here, lying next to this vampire who has now tasted him, taken him in the most intimate of ways? He has changed so mightily, has become someone he can barely recognize. He’s let go of so much. 

Yifan knows the difference now too. Love and hate. Helping and hurting. 

All thanks to this man who isn’t a man, someone he once called leech, monster. 

There is nothing parasitic, nothing monstrous… not even a bit. 

“Yes,” Yifan whispers. “Please.” 

Sehun smiles at him, pressing a kiss to his lips. Yifan sighs out as tears gather behind his closed eyes, and then he feels Sehun open his mouth gently along Yifan’s jaw, just at the edge of the scar. 

He has held onto so much and for so long… all at once, he lets go. 

The magic flows from Sehun to Yifan, and he truly believes it to be the most beautiful moment of his entire life. It feels like purity, like still, resting water finally running clean. He moans softly as Sehun kisses him new, body healing, the skeletons falling out of the closet. Disintegrating to ash, the ash marrying with the soil, something growing from that earth. Something green. 

It does not take very long, but Yifan feels tears slip down the sides of his face by the time it is over. Sehun looks at him through iridescent tear-filled eyes, glimmering and shining, and god above, he is the loveliest thing Yifan’s ever seen, ever _known_. 

“You are just as beautiful as the day you hunted me,” Yifan laughs. “Just as green.” 

“I never _hunted_ you,” Sehun whispers, and he presses a chaste kiss to the hollow of Yifan’s throat, a reminder of the feast. “I was… curious.” 

“Curious and thirsty,” Yifan says, and he ropes his arm around Sehun’s body, holding him close. “Never go. Promise me that.” 

“Now that I’ve tasted you, I doubt I could,” Sehun says, and Yifan listens to the smile as if it’s a song, a lullaby.  
  


†

Yifan makes a vow to Sehun that very morning over a thick stack of pancakes, tabbed in butter and dripping with maple syrup.

“I don’t need all this,” Yifan says. 

“You let me _drink from you_ ,” Sehun says lowly, as though someone might be listening, as though they’re dirty words. “At the very least, you must eat well today.” 

“It wasn’t even that much blood,” Yifan assures him. 

“Is that why I needed to aid you in the bath this morning?” 

Yifan goes quiet, and he pulls his plate forward. He hadn’t even realized how ravenous his hunger was until he takes his first bite, sticky and sweet. He moans around the tines of the fork, and Sehun folds his arms across his chest looking quite smug. Yifan would never tell him so, but he thinks Sehun looks quite cute that way. He doesn’t mind it every once in a while. 

Sehun watches with his chin in his hand as Yifan eats, eyes glittering. Yifan looks back at him, raising his brow. 

“What?” he asks, muffled by the food. 

“Nothing,” Sehun says happily. 

Yifan rolls his eyes. “ _What?_ ” 

“I’m just very happy,” Sehun says, shrugging his shoulders quickly. “Are you happy?” 

Yifan swallows thickly, smiles as he sips from his coffee. “I”m happy. I’m very happy.” 

“Now you’re not just saying that, are you? Because I swear, Yifan, if I find out that you’re only sacrificing yourself so as not to hurt me—” 

“I’ve decided to stop hunting,” Yifan interrupts quickly. “For good.” 

“W-What?” 

“I don’t want to do it anymore,” Yifan says. “I think… I think it’s been a long time coming, and I’ve just… I’ve no taste for it anymore. Not since I met you.” 

Sehun’s eyes are watery and full. “Really?” 

“Really,” Yifan says. “You made me better.” 

“No, hush now,” Sehun says, and he wipes absently at his face. 

“I mean it,” Yifan tells him. “I mean everything I say.” He looks off towards the window, and he can see clear through to the forestline. “When I gave you that ultimatum, when we first met, I thought you’d fail. In fact, I didn’t _think_. I knew. There was no way you could do it. A-And because I’d given you a chance, my conscience would rest easily.” 

“What about your conscience now?” Sehun asks, and Yifan looks back at him. “How does it feel now?” 

“Weary,” Yifan says. “Ready for rest. You never broke your vow, and now… I think I’d like to make a vow of my own.” 

“All right, Yifan,” Sehun smiles. “Swear to me.” 

“I will never hunt again,” Yifan says. “For the rest of my natural-born life, I swear to keep this vow to you.” 

Sehun grins, shaking his head. “There has never been anyone like you. I’m convinced.” 

“Again,” Yifan says. “We are a pair.” 

Sehun stands, hands flat on the table as he leans over to kiss Yifan. It is easy to lose himself in that. There is so much possibility for the two of them now. There is so much room to grow. Roots unfurling. 

Yifan finishes his stack of pancakes, and for the rest of the day, he smells the sweet scent of maple.  
  


†

Yifan likes the snow best of all, so occasionally, they’ll walk through the forest when it’s coming down gently. It’s incredibly romantic, the sights and sounds. He breathes in the scent of crisp water, the river rushing under the tenuous frozen surface. Sehun’s fingers are laced through Yifan’s, and they journey through the woods together almost every day, happy and whole.

Sehun forms little snowballs by the banks of the frozen river, and Yifan dodges them when they come his way. 

“Just let me hit you,” Sehun whines. 

“What sense does that make?” 

“It would make me happy,” Sehun smiles. 

Yifan huffs, standing very still as he allows Sehun to hit him squarely in the chest with a snowball. He rolls his eyes, and Sehun laughs heartily before Yifan approaches with his arms spread wide. Sehun backs away laughing, giggling, and the sound bubbles in Yifan’s chest. 

“No, no, please,” Sehun laughs, and as Yifan stalks closer and closer, Sehun tries to scramble further and further away. “Spare me, please.” 

“No mercy,” Yifan says, and Sehun’s back hits a tree, his body pressed up against it as Yifan puts himself against Sehun. “I’ve got you.” 

“Oh, _hunter_ ,” Sehun swoons, and Yifan captures his lips in a kiss, a little flame within all the cold. Yifan kisses down Sehun’s neck, peels back the loose collar, and licks along Sehun’s collarbone. It sends a shiver through him, this time not feigned, and that makes Yifan smile against Sehun’s skin.  
  


†

Though Sehun was a novice when they first began, he gets a decent amount of first hand experience that winter. There’s not much else to do when it’s too cold for Yifan to go out, and when they tire of reading or talking or in Sehun’s case, caring for some plants that he’s keeping warm inside, they fall into bed together.

Yifan’s never felt as free as he does when he’s with Sehun, free to suggest or guide or take what he wants once he’s asked for it. It is liberating in the easiest, most natural way. He arches his back as he straddles Sehun, grinding himself back against Sehun’s erection. They’ve done little that day except for take each other in various ways, sweat in the sheets. He’s already come several times, but it’s the first time in his life when he feels like he’s found himself, like he understands who he really is. Who is lying beneath him. 

“Don’t tease me,” Sehun whispers. “You know I’ll have to feed soon.” 

“Mm,” Yifan hums, and he trails his fingers along the column of his throat as he tilts his head back. He strokes his fingers down his chest, down his stomach to circle his cock. “It isn’t teasing if you know I’ll give it to you.” 

“It is,” Sehun says breathlessly. “Because I don’t know when. Or how.” 

“What about this?” Yifan asks, and he lowers his wrist to Sehun’s mouth. “What if I use you as you use me?” 

Sehun’s eyes flutter shut as he moans, lips soft against Yifan’s skin. He peppers Yifan’s wrist with kisses before Yifan even feels the delicate scratch of Sehun’s teeth, and they both groan in unison. 

“You smell so good,” Sehun whispers, and Yifan reaches behind his body with his free hand, gingerly adjusting himself until the head of Sehun’s cock is pressed right up against his hole. 

When he sinks down onto it in one smooth, practiced motion, Sehun sinks his teeth into Yifan’s flesh, the blood pouring out in a wave. Yifan throws his head back with a delighted moan, riding Sehun to the rhythm of his own heartbeat, thudding in his ears. He screws his eyes shut as he rolls his hips, Sehun writhing in pleasure beneath him as Yifan both gives and takes, gives and takes. 

They feast upon each other, the bountiful harvest of each other’s bodies, and once they’ve taken as much as the other has to give, Yifan falls to the bed, well and truly exhausted. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to do it again for a while. All tapped out. 

He groans into his pillow as Sehun runs his fingers down along Yifan’s spine, quietly lulling Yifan to sleep. He is exhausted, the best kind of tired there is. 

“I could try it sometime,” Sehun suggests suddenly, bursting through the silence. 

Yifan doesn’t even manage to open his eyes as he responds. “Try what?” 

“Being on the bottom,” Sehun says. 

“You were on the bottom,” Yifan says, and he opens one eye with a grin. 

“You know what I _mean_ ,” Sehun says. 

Yifan leans up on an elbow as he faces Sehun. “You don’t have to. Only if you want. I’m quite happy with the way things are going. Usually…” and he moves to take Sehun’s soft cock in his hand, pulling it gently, “this is how I’ve done things because that’s the way I like it.” 

Sehun’s throat rolls. “Y-Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Yifan says, but he cages Sehun in with his arms. “But if you’re saying you’d like to try getting fucked—well, I have no objections.” 

Sehun nods eagerly, and the smile that spreads across Yifan’s face is just as eager, if not more so. 

Energy strikes through him like a bolt of lightning. He didn’t think he’d get another wind, but god help him, it comes like crazy. 

“Let’s start now,” Yifan suggests, and he drags Sehun into another furious kiss, passion swelling like a roaring fire.  
  


†

The winter melts silently, and the spring comes with budding flowers and clear skies. The earth smells different in the spring, and so too, apparently does Yifan.

“What is that even supposed to mean?” Yifan asks, watching as Sehun replants some of the things he kept living indoors. “How do I smell any different than usual?” 

“You smell more… _ripe_ ,” Sehun says happily, and he makes a small hole before planting the flowers back in the ground. “Delicious.” 

“I’m not a piece of fruit,” Yifan says. 

“Never been called that before?” Sehun jests, and Yifan has half a mind to punish him right then and there. “I’m only poking _fun_.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Yifan says, and he leans against the back door, eyes shutting as the sun shines down on him. “I smell good.” 

“Yes, you do,” Sehun says, and he goes back to humming to himself as he works in the garden, a very pleasant morning, the kind of morning that Yifan wishes could last forever. 

He opens his eyes very suddenly, staring at Sehun so intently that it causes Sehun to look up from his work. 

“What is it?” 

“H-Have you ever thought about… about biting me?” Yifan asks. 

“I bite you all the time,” Sehun says, and if he was still living, Yifan thinks there would be a pretty blush streaking across his face. 

“I meant… have you thought about giving me the bite?” Yifan asks slowly. 

Sehun’s hands still, and he looks at Yifan very seriously. 

“Do you know what you’re asking for?” 

“A life unbroken,” Yifan says plainly. “An eternity with you.” 

“A-And that’s something you want?” Sehun asks. 

“Maybe not today,” Yifan says. “But someday.” 

“Someday?” 

“Yeah, if that’s all right with you,” Yifan says. 

“Someday?” 

“Someday,” Yifan smiles. 

“All right, Yifan,” Sehun says. “Someday.”  
  


††

Sehun turns Yifan six summers later after they’ve moved across the country. It is far into the wilderness, away from people, but Yifan’s always been good with his hands, and they’ve been living on their own for a while now, no real need for anyone besides themselves. He built the cabin on his own the first time around, he figures he can build it a second time.

He teaches Sehun about clearing the site, sawing the trees, and teaches him about labor. Sehun grows strong under Yifan’s guidance. They notch the logs, and Sehun takes to the work easily. His hands even stay soft, and Yifan marvels it as they lie together, drenched in starlight. 

He’s never thought about home before, but when Sehun gathers wildflowers, setting them in a vase on the freshly crafted table, Yifan thinks this must be it. This must be home. Him. 

Often, the home is filled with the scents of spice and warmth, and their love fills each room to the corners, lighting up even the darkest of places. Everything they do is with love in their hearts, and Yifan feels younger and younger as the days go by. Even without the bite, he thinks _is this immortality? Does love make you live on forever?_

It’s the heart of the summer when Yifan asks for the kiss, the _someday_ finally arrived, and Sehun obliges him easily. 

They go to the field of wildflowers, and Yifan rests in Sehun’s arms for a moment under the hot sun. They stand on the edge of a moment, toes just over the edge, and when Yifan looks into Sehun’s eyes, he sees so much. Who he used to be, what he used to want… my, how he’s changed. He feels so faraway from that. He is someone new because of Sehun. 

Sehun’s teeth sink into his neck, and the spell works within minutes, but it feels like hours. He drifts within a deep purple space, like a haze of sleep and dreams. His eyes shut as the magic takes hold of him, binds his legs and his hands, a cloth over his eyes. Still, he sees Sehun’s face, beautiful and ever-young, lovely and green. He might have worried were it not for Sehun’s face, but seeing him, he knows that all is well. All is going exactly as it was always meant to go. 

He sees visions of the future, and they swim in navy and gold. He sees Sehun’s face, lovely as the first time he saw him, just as pure and beautiful. He sees the home decorated with hand knitted blankets, stacks of books with dried flowers pressed between the pages. There are plants in the windowsill, and they spill over the edges, breathing life into them. He sees their bodies together. He sees their hands in soil. He sees the branches of their fingerprints, the branches of veins through their lungs. He sees deep into them. Sees the walls between them crumble. 

They are one. They’ve always been one.  
  


††

Yifan awakes again as something completely new, Sehun lying in his arms.

“Good morning,” Sehun whispers. His hand rests across Yifan’s stomach. “Did you sleep well?” 

“About as well as I could,” Yifan whispers back. 

Sehun leans up on his elbow, staring at Yifan. The grass is green all around them, and Yifan reaches out to stroke his fingers along Sehun’s cheek. Soft. Just as soft as he remembered. 

“Do you regret it?” Sehun wonders. 

“No,” Yifan says softly, and he takes Sehun’s hand in his, kissing his knuckles. “Not for a second.” 

“There are a million more seconds to go,” Sehun says. “I can’t wait to see if you can hunt.” 

“I am a hunter by trade,” Yifan laughs. “It’s in my—” 

_Blood_ , he thinks with a smile. _None left._

“I’m so glad you’re mine,” Sehun whispers. 

“I’m so glad you hunted me,” Yifan whispers back, and Sehun rolls his eyes with a laugh. 

They hold each other in the summer sun, and he feels the first inkling of thirst rising up from his throat. It feels so familiar to him now, and he looks at Sehun’s throat, imagines sipping from him. 

“I know that look,” Sehun smiles. “You’re thirsty.” 

“Not yet,” Yifan says. “Just a moment longer.” 

Sehun lets his eyes linger along Yifan’s lips. It is a second and then a second more before he kisses him lushly, metallic and bright. 

“All right, hunter of mine,” Sehun says, and he looks back towards the blue sky. “All right.”  
  


††

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading, i really hope you enjoyed! to the prompter, i know i sort of took it and.... Did something to it, but i hope you liked it all the same.


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